Where I live (about a mile or so from where the earth drops off into infinite chaos, where elephants carry worlds on their backs), winter lasts forever. In any given year, winter is at least 17 months long. Usually longer.
That’s 17+ months of air stripped of fragrance, devoid of the smell of living things like plants and bushes. Devoid of the dense sound of buds growing on sap filled branches. Even the wind sounds different as it rushes through snow-straddled fields and barren forests. The cold bites through sunlight and freezes the cheeks.
Now, I’m not going to go off on another “I hate winter” tirade (though I do hate winter) (very much) (I really do) but, instead, I want to pay homage to the color green. Yes, we do get green here in the winter in the form of evergreen trees and green buildings and green cars and trucks and buses and signs and green eyes. But there are no green leaves, no green grass, no green bushes.
Oops…am I tirading again? Sorry.
We get trickles of green seeping out from snow-capped evergreens, but never that resplendent barrage of green like a tsunami of color washing over the landscape. But when summer (after 17 months of winter) slides down the shute of winter and melts the snow and ice into arteries of life, the green is so intense you can feel it rubbing against your eyes and licking your nostrils.
And I think I just grossed myself out.
Let’s try that again.
The green simmers under the snowscape, sucking the life and nutrients out of the white stuff until it crumples and falls into the bowels of summer.