Baudette, MN – October 19-20, 2013
Snow began to fall. The first flakes touched the ground and disappeared. The next followed. The sun and earth shook them off. More fell. The warmth of the world flickered like an old light bulb trying to hold on.
More snow came, silent and white, melting away just like the last, but not in the cracks, no, not in the darkest shadows. There the snow held for a moment, caught on, lingered just a bit longer.
The sun glared down. Shadows moved. Grass clawed back to the light. Fallen leaves shook off their coat. Color returned to the world.
“Not yet,” the light bulb said. “Not yet.”
But we all knew it wouldn’t last. Warmth would flicker off again, each time a bit longer, each snap of white a bit colder, until the world turned to ice and winter refused to leave.
I stared out the window for days. I watched snow fall, hold, and disappear. I felt winter’s door shutting on top of me.
“Give me one last moment,” I said. “Before the lights go out.”