winter

i'm still making my way through pilgrim at tinker creek. it's a book that must be read slowly and deliberately as annie dillard sees with the detailed eye of a scientist and writes with the refined language of a poet. the chapter i was reading today is titled "winter". as i was making my way through the chapter, this being the middle of february, i found it easy to pay attention to the things she was describing.

she talked of the creek frozen over by the winter cold. what i was most transfixed by was her description of the life that pulses beneath the layers of ice--frogs buried deep in the mud at the bottom of the creek, absorbing bits of oxygen through their porous skin, turtles breathing posteriorly where sensitive tissues filter oxygen straight to the blood and act as gills.(how bizarre and amazing!)

these creatures who would otherwise be unable to survive the harsh winter weather, are able to tuck themselves safely under water, away from the deadly path of the frostbitten landscape. but because they go dormant, they are survivors. they lie in wait through the winter months, knowing that with the advent of spring comes the thaw, when they will once again be able to return to the surface, to land, and breathe in the life-giving air through more familiar means.

this passage struck me because this season is my winter too--due to more than just the cold weather and leafless trees. this is a season of barrenness and my heart feels chilled and frostbitten. but reading these words--words of life teeming beneath a frozen exterior--i wonder at the possibility of life beating inside me right now. how long will this winter last? what will the promise of spring awaken in my heart? do i have what it takes to be a survivor too?

while these questions don't have ready answers, i will use this time to try and find beauty in the barren landscape. and i will wait for the snow to melt...