Winter
The first day of winter, 2005.
The longest night. Maybe I won't sleep. I haven't stayed up all night in years. The things that once kept me up all night have faded, the urgencies, the emergencies, the crazy buzz.
I'm afraid though.
I go outside on these long nights and walk in the streets and feel alone amid the parked cars and closed up houses decorated for the big holiday. It feels good to be alone, with no false heartiness, no empty bravado, no season's greetings. Peace on earth. Season of love, season of hope. Season of desperation.
Los Angeles is the coldest city, paved for a hundred miles. Even the rivers are made of concrete. The smiles are so hard and bright they have lost their meaning, and the brilliance of the lights hides the stars themselves.
We have defeated winter. We have put the storm windows in storage and moved to the coast and turned on all the lights and there will be no longest night, and this darkness will not seep into our souls. Winter, we have felt your chill, and we are not afraid. We will gather together with the ones we love and we will eat and sing and put lights on the roof, lights on the trees, we will light fires against the cold and dark.
Winter doesn't care. Winter says You have to deal with me. You think you've escaped, but you've only imprisoned yourself with your decorations and your lights and your pavement and your season's greetings. I am cold, I am darkness, and I am coming to your town, wherever you have built it, and one of these times I may decide to stay.
I'm almost alone on this longest night, just me and the silence and the parked cars. From under one of them, a small animal watches me, a cat. It is careful but not afraid, and I want to touch it, to pick it up and cradle it near my heart, feel it's heartbeat, talk to it of spring and life, feel it's warmth, learn it's bravery.
But the cat knows what I want, and it runs away.
The longest night. Maybe I won't sleep. I haven't stayed up all night in years. The things that once kept me up all night have faded, the urgencies, the emergencies, the crazy buzz.
I'm afraid though.
I go outside on these long nights and walk in the streets and feel alone amid the parked cars and closed up houses decorated for the big holiday. It feels good to be alone, with no false heartiness, no empty bravado, no season's greetings. Peace on earth. Season of love, season of hope. Season of desperation.
Los Angeles is the coldest city, paved for a hundred miles. Even the rivers are made of concrete. The smiles are so hard and bright they have lost their meaning, and the brilliance of the lights hides the stars themselves.
We have defeated winter. We have put the storm windows in storage and moved to the coast and turned on all the lights and there will be no longest night, and this darkness will not seep into our souls. Winter, we have felt your chill, and we are not afraid. We will gather together with the ones we love and we will eat and sing and put lights on the roof, lights on the trees, we will light fires against the cold and dark.
Winter doesn't care. Winter says You have to deal with me. You think you've escaped, but you've only imprisoned yourself with your decorations and your lights and your pavement and your season's greetings. I am cold, I am darkness, and I am coming to your town, wherever you have built it, and one of these times I may decide to stay.
I'm almost alone on this longest night, just me and the silence and the parked cars. From under one of them, a small animal watches me, a cat. It is careful but not afraid, and I want to touch it, to pick it up and cradle it near my heart, feel it's heartbeat, talk to it of spring and life, feel it's warmth, learn it's bravery.
But the cat knows what I want, and it runs away.
posted by Larry Jones at 12:33 AM
11 Comments:
wondering around and found your site somehow, anyways bye
Bravo for demonstrating the Zen tradition of turning, facing and shaking hands with your shadow self, the darkness following you, keeping apace with your every step. 'Tis the season.
Something Pensive This Way Comes.
(It must be in the L.A. County water).
Really enjoyed this. Just beautiful writing.
And the darkness here in CA... it has a cripness that FL does not have, less swampy and murky. I feel less swampy and murky too.
Great post.
~S
Staff Rocket - Uh, fabulous to hear from you, man.
Jayne - Yeah, that's it: I was observin' a tradition!
Shephard - As you see, I am susceptible to the Universal Terror that darkness brings.
Finally, a different holiday post! Everyone else is "HO HO HO" or bitching about being PC or dreading the family "togatherness".'
But you come up with something totally unique and poetic. Damn, I'm impressed!
liked this one
I hope JuneBugg meant to type "togatherness"... because what a great word for family holiday functions. I must use that.
~S
In the dark aloneness, facing the inevitable cold winter, you discover your longing.
Beautiful, Larry.
Junebugg - I'm with Shephard on the use of your new word "togatherness." Thanks for reading.
Jonny - Glad you liked it.
Shephard - I mentally correct typos as I read - I don't even consciously see them, so thanks for bringing that one to the surface.
Theresa - Yes, you do.
Larry, I love that you are a man who can revel in Christmas music, and still write a post like this. It's beautiful, beautiful...with that ache singing through it.
Erin - Love the flattery, even if it means I have not found a consistent voice...
T1 - I wish I'd seen these things sooner. Maybe I'd have gone someplace else.
Dick - What I have here, I call "winter," so I don't have to miss it. Thank you.
Post a Comment
<< Home