snow and sleep (or lack of both)

it had been streaming past
leaving trails on our windows
but at the graveyard
the car slowed
and i saw clearly the airy tufts of ice
suspended
like dust motes shaken from the clouds
too soft, too frail
to make any difference
on the soggy ground
(not that anything would make a difference
to the occupants of the cemetery:
the ghosts and the ersatz flowers)

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Inspired by observations from the car window, I scribbled this poem on the back of a bulletin on our way home from church. It is still snowing slightly, but it's not leaving much effect. *sigh* Besides some flurries/light snow last Sunday, we've had no other snow this season.

I hate February. I've been distracted and depressed, and, to top it all off, nights haven't been good lately.

I lie down to sleep and my mind won't shut off. It jabbers on and on and I have to lay there and listen to it.

I don't know what the problem is. Actually, I haven't been taking as many walks, which is most likely a contributing factor (Easily rectified, too!) Thankfully, I've remembered what a soporific effect the music of Trespassers William has on me. So many nights this week I've turned to their album Different Stars when I can't stand lying awake in the darkness any longer; it soothes my mind and soon sends me into the streams leading to sleep.


(Anna-Lynne's voice just breaks my heart.)


Also, a lot of you know this already, but I caved and made a tumblr. The world of tumblr still makes me feel slightly like I'm being swallowed whole, but I've loved being closer to certain friends.

Well, that's all, I think. Sorry this post is rather down in the mouth. Winter always gets me in the end.

I hope your Februaries have been more satisfactory than mine.

insanity - 3 A.M.

The absence of snow wakened me last night. The edges of the earth were folding inwards, and the trees were rattling their dry bones.

I thought I saw a stranger hunched in the corner; I thought I saw a forgotten bit of sanity scuttling across the floor.

The feeling I was lying in the wrong bed presented itself to me and then refused to leave. With infrequent breathing, I lay and listened to the sound of nothing humming somewhere in the distance.

I told you not to wake me til my eyes are blue, I mumbled at the blank, dim expanse of ceiling.

The sheets were taut over my body: a cocoon, a straitjacket. I found them comforting: knowing they, at least, would hold me forever.

My thoughts hopped around the room, with heartbeats as delicate as those of winterbirds.

Oh, how silent the birds are, was the last thought to slip across my mind, as once more I slipped into a sea of uneasy sleep.

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{Though not what originally inspired this piece, I dedicate this post to the wee hours of the morning and my tendency to wake up during them and exist in an incoherent state, where I am technically awake, but still asleep in many ways.}


{Photo is the cover of Jesca Hoop's EP, Snowglobe.}

The Icicle

I always feel fragile when I lie in the snow. I get so cold but I love it in a strange sort of way. Sometimes I pretend I am an icicle. I lay there and can feel how transient I am. I taper down to a gentle point; I glisten in the sun. I do not feel threatened by the few drips that slide down me every now and then. I am here for the winter; that is all that matters.

He came across me when I was thus supinely and silently reveling in the snow and dreaming my frozen thoughts. I shot straight upright when I noticed him. He looked confused for a few seconds, then his lips creased into a smile. A knowing smile. As if he knew what had been doing, lying there. I nervously tucked some hair behind my ear. It was caked with snow and some of it dropped back to the ground. He looked as if he was about to say something but I panicked. I turned and ran.

Oh, how silly I am. In my heart of hearts, I am just a woodland creature who can’t understand that all humans do not wish to mistreat me.
Finally, when I had retreated far into the forest, I collapsed in the snow and lay there for a while. But I didn't pretend to be an icicle anymore. Do you know why? For when he looked at me with that smile on his face... I melted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is an excerpt from a book I am writing. The book is made up of two parts. One part is about a introverted girl who lives for trips to the library and becomes infatuated with one of the librarians. (I admit, it is ridiculously autobiographical.) In the book, the girl is writing a story about a girl who lives in a forest. The chapters about the girl in the forest are interspersed throughout the book and they vaguely tie in with the story of the girl who is "writing them". I am doing a horrible job explaining... It sounds rather stupid and I'm not even sure how well it will work. But I enjoy writing it and I s'pose that's all that matters. :)

(And I'd like to thank you all again for your kind responses to my last post. So far, I am feeling very well. I love you all and you mean the world to me!)

{Picture found here.}

December

{The Charlie Brown Christmas tree in our foyer. ♥ }

December
At first it was doubt. Feeling that there was something horribly wrong with me. Nearly having a breakdown, crying sobs that threatened to consume me. {I haven't had a cry this ravaging in so long...}
Baking my melancholy, my disappointments into batches of Christmas cookies and half-heartedly harmonizing in church to the familiar carols.
I was afraid my favourite season would finish before I could get out of my blue funk...

Then, one morning: an unforeseen coating of snow and the scent of cinnamon rolls.

{I love our back yard when it snows. The snow-covered branches turn it into a veritable winter wonderland.}

After that... somehow... December was beautiful.

~A party I was loath to attend turning out lovely in one of the most unexpected ways possible.

~Watching White Christmas for the first time with some of my very favourite people. {The weather forecast has informed us that we may experience a "white Christmas" of our own...!}

~Being swept away by the beauty of song in the annual concert of the girl's ensemble I sing in.
This was possibly one of the most wonderful things of all. Why?
Well, I love singing in the ensemble but lately I've been frustrated and unable to enjoy it because of the relatively small dissonances around me. We are undoubtedly amateurs and I could feel the discrepancies dragging me down. I couldn't appreciate the other parts around me nor the important story {of Jesus' birth} that our words were telling.
But at the concert it all seemed to come together. {It helps that we have the most amazing, loving director ever.}
So what if the girl on my left was off-key at times and singing the soprano part instead of the second soprano?
So what if the girl on my right doesn't know the meaning of the word "pianissimo"?
I was able to sing with absolute joy in my voice! With happiness tinging every note. There is something so thrilling about harmony and being a part of a choir. I'm glad I could be reminded.

Now I bake my content and my joy into Christmas cookies. I made the cookies pictured above last week. They were supposed to be gingersnaps but I did something wrong and they ended up being more like gingerbread. {We suspect I put in too much flour.} But they tasted incredible. That is one mistake I would not mind repeating.

So, yes. I am enjoying this season. Even though I am "grown-up" I still get twinges of the all-consuming, childish anticipation. This quote sum it up pretty well:

"Christmas Eve was a night of song that wrapped itself about you like a shawl. But it warmed more than your body. It warmed your heart... filled it, too, with a melody that would last forever. Even though you grew up and found you could never quite bring back the magic feeling of this night, the melody would stay in your heart always - a song for all the years."
-Excerpt from Song of Years by Bess Streeter Aldrich


And with that, I just want to wish everyone the merriest of Christmases! I hope you all are having a lovely December and Christmas season?


{P.S. - I'm sorry I'm so longwinded all of the time! I try to restrain my train of thought but it goes chugging on, regardless.}

Walking to the mailbox on a snowy day

So quiet. The world has stopped turning.
Clomping in my father's boots, I'm the first to leave evidence of human presence in the snow.
I don't notice the beauty around me.
Wrapped in a yellow blanket, the cold is the only thing I'm aware of.
Suddenly, I hear wind chimes.
Their fairy voices gently wake me.
I stop.
I breathe.
I look.
Snow drifts down and softly settles in my hair.
The world is a lovely place.