Talk Without Speaking

They are not the doubted red hills that I finally saw at dusk on the southern shore of Crete, but rather golden purple mountains that are so vibrant in this crisp air. Winter attacked at night after laying low, in wait but I couldn’t bring myself to exit the trench that is our scaffolding-fortified apartment.

Snow, and ski, days are coming and that gets a smile to overcome any chill that has taken grasp.

Listening to the cries of the terrified, I can understand, perhaps, why so many find this time of year difficult. It’s just a little too easy to compare and contrast.

Let me climb into those mountains, let the snow envelop me, and let me have the strength to stand and emerge purified.