One With Winter

When are you going to make up your mind, when are you going to love me as much as I do you? I tell you that I always want you near, and you say that things … change …
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[Inspired by Tori Amos's "Winter" - excerpt above is paraphrased]

She stood amidst the pure, pristine whiteness of the forest and for once, she felt a heavy stillness, as if it was emanating from the Earth and channeling itself into her own spirit. Standing there, in silence, it felt as if even the animals and birds were reflecting on nature’s transformation. She closed her eyes lightly, her feet rooted to the ground as surely as the trees that surrounded her, and breathed in the clean, cold air. The slowly descending sun splayed off in rays against the snow and ice, like a diamond watch flashing in the light. A shimmering cloud of sparkling snowflakes descended upon her, as if the sky had decided to release glitter in celebration of the season.


A thought flitted through Catherine’s mind, interrupting her reverie, and she vaguely wondered since when it had become winter. In the city, all had nearly been the same between seasons, the heat from the apartments and shops and vendors and ever-moving cars causing the soft snowflakes to perish before even catching a glimpse at the busy sidewalk.

Catherine’s pink cheeks poked out from underneath her fur hood, pastel-bright against the colorlessness of the forest. They were wet with snow, the flakes instantly melting for their simplicity, quietly defeated by the fiery turbulence of her emotions. She was slowly losing herself, surrendering herself, becoming one with the forest, her body intermingling with the air and ground as if she was steam vaporizing in the frigid weather. And it felt liberating, to be lost to something larger than herself. To sit in awe, be placed in front of something so complex and multi-layered, something with no discernible beginning or ending, a place of mystery and wisdom that was so cruelly overlooked.

Why does it feel so simple, wondered Catherine innocently, and still so beautiful? She was overcome with an irrepressible and crazy urge that frightened her, a desire so strong and unexplainable that she could not disobey.

Slowly slipping her black mitten off of her right hand, she stared at her ornate garnet ring, the gold grasping the gem in place like ivory on a brick wall. He bought it for her, after the fight, a very expensive gift that nearly erased the memories of that night. It seemed obscene, no longer hidden underneath her warm mittens, bright and iridescent against the dull colors of the woods. It seemed hateful, and threatening.

She took off the ring and placed it gently in the white snow, and it looked unimpressive and small against the shimmering backdrop of the white blanket. It looked like blood seeping from a puncture wound, a tiny droplet that had oozed out discreetly, hiding the pain and deepness of the cut.