Sleep Walk

Watching winter’s snow melt to reveal the peak of the vegetation felt like finally seeing the end of the tunnel, and now watching the spring flowers beginning to bloom made it seem like a dream. The colors-the view from my window change, and I change with them-or so I used to anyways. Now it seems the only thing changing are the days, while I remain the same. Little by little, bit by bit I am left behind by the seasons.

Its early spring. Once again the colors have changed, mostly white replaced by gray or green with other bits of colors. The white snow of the mountain is no more, it has turned to rivers of water that flow down its face. Snow- it has no more to give, it is bare rock now. And while snow may be but a memory, like ghosts of the past winter, occasional freezing gusts of wind blow through the window catching my cheeks by surprise, rushing, swirling on my eyes trying to draw out moisture. Maybe some time ago, moisture, even tears would have been drawn, but my eyes are too tired and those cold gusts are too weak. It’s not winter anymore. Its the season of rebirth, when plants start to grow again and I want to grow again with them.

I want to be ready for summer. When I was young I made many friends in summer, swimming in the lake, camping. It was so much fun. Maybe I can do the same this summer. I await summer, those simple summers again.