February’s Full Snow Moon peers through my kitchen window. Her aged, knowing voice whispers, “Embrace the stillness. Winter is a time to hibernate my little one. Conserve your energy for Spring.”
Every tired cell in my body yearns to return to bed. Yet with an all-knowing impudence more appropriate to a teenager, I do not listen.
I hear the drip, drip, drip of bitter coffee slowly coating the inside of my mug. Caffeine is beginning her own siren’s call. “Push forward, she purrs. “You are strong. Walk toward me, and I will see you though this day.”
Thus is the curse of my modern life; “protected” from the world by double-paned glass, willfully ignoring the natural rhythms of the season.
_________________________