Thoughts of the Seasons

Here is one of the essays I wrote during my recent writing class at Whatcom Community College. Definitely not my normal writing style, but I thought I would share it nonetheless.  Just for fun: 

Spring

            I almost never laugh when I’m alone. I am usually deep in thought, settled within the quietness of my own mind. But today I watched two dogs playing and suddenly felt a spring of laughter bubble up from my center. As they slapped their front paws repeatedly on the floor, raising their tail ends in a sort of dance-like language while simultaneously hopping backward over and over again, goading the other to join the dance. Today I laughed a hearty, joy-filled, playful laugh.

Summer

           

            In the early mornings, all is still and peaceful. The children are asleep, and the dogs are still in their crates. They seem to know this is a special time for me, as they don’t whine to be let out but instead wait patiently while I enjoy my time alone. Just one small lamp, a cup of hot coffee and my cozy plaid quilt.

            I sit quietly, looking out the window at the world slowly awakening. I read my Bible and get my heart and mind set right for the day. Over time, the sun rises, and my family seems to sense it’s time to rise. The quietness turns into a bustling and busy home, full of love, joy and expectations for the day to come.

Fall

            This morning at sunrise it dawns on me that the days are beginning to shorten once again. Soon it will be dark when I leave my home in the morning and dark when I return in the early evening.

            What is it about fall that makes me feel content and cared for? It’s the cocoon of our home engulfing and protecting the family within.

            Fall begins to close in on us, bringing us ever closer and ever safer. The harshness of the wind beats against the windows and sways the huge evergreens that tower over the neighborhood. Rain pelts the shingles, an ever present reminder of the heat radiating out from the wood burning stove. We are warm. We are safe. We are together, and we are content.

            I’ve always loved the late fall, how it seems to bring the family into the center and send all else into the periphery.

Winter

            I’m looking at a lone, single set of footprints trailing through the snow, the only disturbance in the otherwise glossy, smooth white blanket over the front yard. Soft white mounds of whipped cream where the bushes once were. Beauty, serenity, a sense of complete peace.

            And then sadness. It won’t stay this way. Soon, children will plow through the beautiful glossy frost. Bright red cheeks and gleeful cries of laughter. Dogs chasing them. Balls of snow and ice clinging to their damp coats. What a mess they will make. Wet and cold and smelling like sweat and dirt.

            Then I smile again. There will be joy and laughter and freedom. Messes can be cleaned, but snow days only come around once in a blue moon.

            Let them play. Let them joyfully cry out. Let them chase and let them run. The sounds of laughter are ringing in my ears. Happy, serene and beautiful.