© Vickey Stamps 3/12/15
She’d been so beautiful when first she’d begun her walk upon the earth. She still, for only a measure of time, radiated that which had been summer, and now represented fall. Her dress still lay upon her like the softest of velvets. It’s colors were not unlike a glorious galaxy of colors in blending reds, greens, yellows and shades of orange. It clung to her limbs gracing her with form and figure. The clothing would not suit her long, for now the ending of fall blew around and upon her, with a warning of winters approach. Tantrums of elements fell upon her still slender shoulders, cooling her, making her wish for a shawl. Just as it had been in the transformation of herself when she had been that which walked through summer, then greeted fall, the previous memories of the season that was, were leaving her. She felt them as they scampered away, and bid them stay yet awhile, even knowing Mother Nature would never allow such a thing to be. She had loved the fall. It seemed to be the most bewildering of all seasons, and to her, the one she loved the most. “Where had that thought come from?” she questioned herself, and had no more asked it, then it too disappeared.
Each season she became young all over again, almost newborn in her innocence, innocent again in her lack of knowledge of what lay before her, and which paths she would take. She knew only she must walk on, no matter what lay in wait. She did know she walked into winter and that Spring waited for her. Time passed.
It was a wonderful thing for her that the worst of winter had been endured. Her beautiful eyes were now half closed as a protection or shelter, from the chills in the air, the rains which came, sometimes with hail and followed by great snows. Their lens had grown thick, Sometimes she stumbled, barely able to see the path. She hoped desperately she was near the end of her long journey. Her back was bent nearly to her waist, and her ribs pushed out against the thin skin that covered her. Her lovely velvet dress was not even a memory. Heavy, bulky, unbecoming wraps, covered her frame and feet. It seemed like surely more than one season had passed since fall, and she was almost to believe Spring would never make its way to greet her. “Could she make it even one more day?” she wondered. Large bags holding snow and large icicles bent her back even more. Above her she heard the sweetness of a Cardinal watching her from upon its snow lined branch, its mate nearby. She smiled upon it, hoping it was a sign of spring not being too terribly far away. She knew they lived in the winter. As she thought on that, it touched her heart at what a large wonder it was that they could survive. She recalled the thinness of both the small and larger of the many animals. It was her fault they were hungry from the ravages she had scattered here and there, keeping them from the food for which they continuously sought. She felt bad, but knew there were no choices. It was meant that the earth might hold its four seasons, and surely winter held its own joys, no matter the hardship it brought with it. She bent her gnarled weary arms back, reaching for yet another thing to lay upon the earth. “Humph” she exclaimed. This was the lightest of the heavy snows she had yet to feel. “Perhaps my work is almost done.” Having said so, she brought out a large portion of ice to scatter on the roads. It too was light and the bags upon her back suddenly lighter. She breathed a sigh of relief.
She had climbed up and onto a huge ledge that overlooked a large area. Her bags now empty had been cast aside. Her strength was fading. She craved yet a look at what had been, of all Mother Nature had bid her do. Below her lay a great lake, and as she looked upon it, the ice began to break and the waters beneath jump in a state of excitement. Was there the beginning of blooms on the trees? Peering down on the ground, her twisted pain filled fingers gently touched the petal of a newborn flower. Her job was done or nearly so. “Where was Spring? I must meet her before I can be finished.
Just as before, and void of memories of what had just finished, Spring was there, bending to touch the aged and quickly disappearing frame of Winter. She placed a kiss upon her cheek and whispered a soft good-by, beginning her own journey. What a happy journey it would be. Soon fish would fly out of the waters, drunken in happiness of being set free of their ice roof, water would tickle the roots of trees at its banks, and new life would sing its song in all corners and circles of this new season. It was a wondrous thing to be a part of. Spring would leap in a happy dance along her way, as millions of blooms, turned into new life on the ground and elsewhere. There would be no doubt to be had, should one try to wonder it out, but that truth would triumph…that the great Creator had made a very special time once more.