The Orchid

Winter

The fish gradually immigrated to deeper waters and the mice more inland. The diversity lessened, the world seemed to grow darker. The orchid began withering. And frost struck.
A new flood of souls escaped from heaven except this time, they are carried to earth by angels. Their journey is longer and less deliberate. The angels dance through the air carefree with no intentions other than to be unique. The angels paint the forest floor in white covering all of the scars that make it so beautiful. Such moments are indistinguishable, is it a blessing or a sorrow?

For once humans share a quality with nature. They feel the need to cover their scars in order to look like every other person. Individuality may not always be interpreted as the answer, but no amount of concealing can hide the truth. When you scrutinize the details, you will see that even the concealer is made of very small individualistic pieces. Such things can be glossed over, but such things should never be forgotten. Under the mask there are scars and that is beautiful.

The winters here nips at the skin and stops time altogether. The water ceases to flow and the air goes stale. The winter is a true test of endurance, except when the world is drowning in waves of white, there is no arc to guide them to the light. The angels only continue to pile souls on souls and the world blackens and brightens simultaneously, creating the greatest limbo effect known to exist.

The buck toothed masters of limbo rejoice. The time has come to shed their autumn attire. With each bounce tufts of brown release into the wind of the flurry. The winter season brings a new sense of security to the lives of the local hare. A new sense of purpose. With no children to attend and no children to make, life is simple. Eat and survive. Simplicity is in every sense of winter. Therefore humans are nothing like winter.

    We thrive off the notion that there is more to life than eating and surviving. We must be superior and have an alternative motive. Whatever that might look like for you, remember that like the winter hare, we need to embrace the small victories.

    The hours fill with endless frolicking and joy from the animate. The sun itself gets tired more quickly than usual retreating into the horizon to take a well needed rest. The earth is bitter without the sun and even more unrelenting. The frost threatens the evergreens who sneer back in virescent needles. The moon reflects its soft light on the snowy ground, causing the illusion of a sunny day. There is stark contrast between the mice and the snow so it is easy picking for the ravenous owls.