Wednesday, February 16, 2011
tides and seasons
i have a wish - that high tide would last, that low tide would last, that the winter solstice would mean things would stand still and the same in the summer. but it doesn't. it ebbs and it flows, mercilessly, continually. time waits for no man. it never stops moving. good glory. in the winter, i want to hibernate, to stop and be still at the deepest point in the year. i always have a sense when i notice the buds on the trees, that i'm not finished resting, that i've never quite achieved the rest i meant to, needed to, wanted to get. and in the summer, the solstice is perfection - glorious long day, late sunset and i want that to remain too.
of course, i wrote all this more than a week ago, before The Plague invaded my house. my husband had four days of vertigo, and I've spent a total of 17 hours (7 of them after midnight one night) emptying buckets, offering ginger ale and sympathy to two different children. so far.
as much as i want many things to last, this ain't one of them.