It's Coming...So They Say
- Virginia McLane
- Feb 20
- 1 min read
The seasons change and the beauty of this place changes as well. Draped in blankets of snow, it soaks in the southern sun when it decides to appear. The sun sets in a totally different place; the long shadows at 4 in the afternoon remind me of the short days of winter, even though that too is changing. It’s bitter cold, still and silent, until you get to the bridge and you can still hear it…a whisper on its way to the ocean. Still moving, heading down as it does in the other seasons. The sound is a quiet trickle, not the thunderous roar after a hard rain. The ice grows and shrinks with the sun and warmth…four weeks till spring. Not so long. People celebrate the harbingers of spring -the pussy willows, red wing blackbirds…and for me the loudness of the brook.
..the melting snows on the mountain. Another season.
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