Winter Memories - Visitor's Story

by Lindsey Mclellan
(British Columbia)

Staring at the stars, not knowing where it all began, I cannot help but wonder why I'm here. A breeze upon the air, tumbles over my skin, while the night brings silence as well as peace. And oh, to be at peace! I would give my life and more. To have no worries, but rather to wander gracefully in and out of time with the freedom of the wind that kisses my upturned face.

And finally I see the moon. A brilliant white that guides my thoughts and sings to me the knowledge I seek...if only I still spoke that beautiful, mislaid patois in this time. Perhaps in another life, in another land...Though who is to say I am the only one to unlock the nameless, or be wrong to assume I know that of which I speak?

The snow glistens under my feet now, a world stretched before me, blanketed in a perfect spread of untouched white. The only worry to worry is that of dodging the flying slush brought by passing cars.

But down here, down where only nature thrives and the playful dream...the dangers are unlimited. They induce a racing heart when the wind mimics an animal, and every twig snap chills the spine. And amongst the gleeful game of hide and seek with beings either real or imaginary, I remember every blissful winter memory that still brings a smile to my rosy lips.

I remember how, for many a winter, I barrelled down hills on a sled with a dog in my lap, only to crash each time at the bottom, breathless. Oh how I laughed; no sound escaped my lips most days: I was laughing too hard to get a breath in. But then there were other days, these ones quiet and empty with snow lovingly dusting the already whitened earth. It was on these days that I would laugh a real laugh, where my voice rang clear in the crisp, silent air, and echoed around and back at me. I was never alone on those days. I simply had to sing out into the endless white, and a friendly voice sang out back to me.

I remember throwing snowballs for my dog, and how he moved stealthily - a hunter stalking his prey. He wished so badly to have just a moment of victory - that victory being, of course, a mouthful of snow. And he got his wish every time in fact. He pounced in snow, he rolled in it, and ate it, and snapped at it with pearly white teeth! If Casey has his way, it would be winter all year round.

Coming out of the memories, I raise my face to the luminescent moon with a smile which only the gods can see. Such memories are cherished; I do not plan to relinquish my hold on them anytime in the near or far future. My past is who I am and who I might be, and though I have made mistakes I love my life story.

I stand in the middle of a great white world, listening, just listening, to the silence. The slightest of winds pushes my hair behind my ear and tickles the willows nearby. My eyes twinkle like the stars overhead, for I know what others do not; I know a great many secrets, a great many answers to the long forgotten questions of our ancestors.

I give the moon a last knowing gaze, before turning in my spot and treading into the awaiting depths of an ancient forest that calls me home.