Monday, October 5, 2009
I Can't Wait For Winter
You think I'm nuts don't you? You think that the cheese must have slipped off my cracker (credit The Green Mile), but I do have a reason.
Is it because I want to shoosh down pristine ski slopes at a breakneck pace, split the snow draped pine trees that stand like soldiers guarding the trail, leave a wake of freshly packed powder that falls to the side like a solid mist, feel almost in command of my speed, but not fully, as I hang my life over the edge of the chasm, then haul it back when I regain a semblance of control?
Nope, that's not it.
Is it because I want to savor the crunch of snow under my boots on a deathly still morning, the way below zero temperature biting at my nostrils as I suck in a breath, and stare at sunlight sparkling through crystal clear ice covering the spindly branches of a birch tree that turn it into a living gem, more beautiful than the largest royal embellishment?
Nope, that's not it either. It never gets that cold out her in California.
Is it that I want to strap on a set of ice skates at the edge of a clear frozen lake, and enjoy the metallic hiss of blade meeting water as I glide over the bluish white surface, a wisp of quarter sized snowflakes dancing in my path, stopping once in a while to catch my breath, only to hear the frightening cracking sounds the ice makes as fissures rumble like thunder.
Nope, not even close.
What I am waiting for, is more time to write. You see for me, summertime is filled with way too many distractions.
There are lawns that need mowing, friends that want to go motorcycle riding, other friends that want to go bicycle riding, picnics with the neighbors, hiking trails with the wife, days at the beach, wine and cheese festivals downtown, car shows, air races, motorcycle races, baseball games, the list just goes on and on.
I enjoy every one of these activities, but sometimes I still hear a small voice telling me, "you didn't write your 1000 words today."
But it's all good. Activities are slowing, and the rain is coming. Soon I'll be sitting with pen over paper and the words flowing like a river. I'll fill notebooks with my thoughts and silence that small voice.
Now if I could just find the remote to turn off the TV.