Lion and Lamb

Credit: www.thestar.com

 

Opening the window

Turning up the volume

on the wind and rain

drops beating

sounds: a metal drum

an unexpected rhythm

dancing on the chairs

elderly and youthful pines

swinging and swaying

an homage to one another

My world is a blanket of camouflage colors

Grays, browns, blacks and greens

Trees still lack their first season’s buds

I await the birth of their newest progeny

Winter’s white finally losing the battle

Snowbanks disintegrating and retreating

Transforming into rivulets

The earth beneath no longer stiffened

but softening, oozing a gorgeous liquid bronze

 

Magdalena

Source: We Heart It

Source: We Heart It

She ambled out into the hush of the city’s streets,the Arctic air at once taking her breath away and filling her lungs with renewed life. The spectacular chill washed away the late night’s pungent plundering. Another evening another man.  Pure bliss coupled with an exacting need to refill that sugar in her bowl.  The dark season only increased her need for the heat of skin on skin. She liked the anonymity of it, never knowing quitewhat to expect even when she was well acquainted with her conquests. The conversation ended as soon as the key unlocked his door. She wasn’t interested in small talk or the intimacy revealed in some random deep conversation. Each encounter was a relief and a revelation, each getting their share and never once feeling used or abused.

She never liked to stay, never enjoyed the tangling of limbs and sheets in the aftermath. Never wanted to greet the day with him. She preferred a quiet exit as he lay soundly sleeping. Nights like this when the world seemed dead asleep were hers and hers alone. She could make first tracks. Listen for the squeaky crunch of her boots on newly fallen snow. Shelter  herself beneath the awning of her umbrella. Alive,silently satiated, but still simmering with anticipation, awaiting the sensual mystery of a subsequent surrendering.

fwf kellie elmore badge

#FWF Free Write Friday: Time and Place Scenario

by Kellie Elmore

An image prompt that took off down an unexpected path. But hey, isn’t that what free writes are all about?  I am thankful once again to Kellie Elmore for helping me tend to my muse! XO

Geographical Escape 3.0: Stranded

photo credit: www.lawnow.org

It all started innocently enough.  He was approached with an offer from his boss after the holidays. “Got a buddy up in the Billingsworth region who could use your expertise for a bit. You would be in a consulting position three days a week and you’d make  top money in addition to what you make here. If it works out, I get a cut of the profit and I’ll give you a hefty raise.”

He didn’t pass it up even though it meant being away from home Sunday afternoon to Wednesday night.  Perfect timing for ski season. The area had top-notch black diamond trails.  Just the kick he needed.

And the old feeling was rising up again. He thought that he had it under control. Lauren wasn’t even a distant memory; he had convinced himself that it never happened. But then Joe had to go say something that triggered that underground tremor in him again. The four of them were out at their annual couples holiday date and Joe had raised a toast to him. “Tom, he said in a booming voice, your mom would be so proud of you. Successful businessman, husband, father and friend. You have buried the legacy of your dad.”  Tom’s face became an icy mask. He had not seen his father since he was nine. Tom’s mom had died of cancer just before their daughter was born. They had named her Louisa after her grandmother.

The physical exertion of cycling and skiing that once helped to peel the layers of hurt ceased to work. Sexual diversion with a woman he barely knew had become his new method of deliverance.

Georgia was a mirror image of him. Short black hair. Black eyes.  A femme fatale who was just shy of 40 and had a body that knocked him out.  Powerful  thighs that were strong from years on the slopes. Muscular upper back.  A brawny woman who made it clear that she was proud of her sexuality.

When she called her mechanic, he let her know that he would not be able to get the new starter until Friday. Given the timing of the repair, Tom would not make it home at all since he was back at work in s the following  Monday.  He would remain in the area for another week.

And what a week it was. There was a certain tough competitiveness to their escapades. An edginess. Like skiing on icy slopes or off the trails. Georgia was an expert skier and he found it hard to keep up with her.  And she was equally energetic and agile in the  bedroom.

She brought out a hidden determination in him.  A hardened physical desire that broke down the act into tarnished carnal lust. She was serving a need and he was hooked.

Geographical Escape 2.9: A Change in Seasons

Photo credit: wallpoper.com

He was riding an avalanche. The rush was back. He had missed this feeling of spinning into the unknown. His spine was tingling. His hands twitching. Grabbing at her backside, he held on. The high had gotten higher.

When he released himself from her, she wrapped herself in a sheet and poured two shots of tequila. The burn in his throat was soothing.

“I am so glad that your truck didn’t start,” she said with a devilish grin.

They had met on the last run of the day, the only two left on the slopes. He had been lost in a mindless reverie when she suddenly appeared  at his side. They raced to the bottom together, both breathing heavily when they were done.

“Time for last call,” she said, leaving her skis in the lodge’s lobby. Well, a little night-cap wouldn’t hurt before he headed back.

The whiskey warmed them as they bantered comfortably at the bar. They left for the parking lot at closing time. Throwing his skis  in the bed of the truck, he hopped in quickly. It would be a long drive home and he would need to stop for gas and coffee. As he turned the key in the ignition, he was greeted with silence.

“Want me to jump you?”, she asked. Again, she seemed to appear out of nowhere. When that didn’t work, he concluded that it was the starter.

“You’ll never get a tow at this time. And the only repair shop in town is closed. I can call my guy in the morning and have him take care of it,” she said with a wink. “Meet me in my car.”

He placed a call his wife and his boss. No need to lie this time.

They rode in silence through icy mountainous and narrow roads. The night was deeply black.  There, at the end of a long driveway, stood a large cabin. He had arrived at a dark forested limbo and his body soared.

When his boots hit the snow, he knew there would be no turning back.

The Gift of Darkness

Never are voices so beautiful as on a winter’s evening, when dusk almost hides the body, and they seem to issue from nothingness with a note of intimacy seldom heard by day. ~ Virginia Woolf

Well, it happened again last night. We lost power and were once again plunged into blackness. As if it were not already dark enough.  This time of year is challenging for those of us who live in northern climates. The days are hopelessly short and mostly gray. The sun-when it does come out-barely lasts a few hours. On Sundays, I have the opportunity to run later in the morning-about 8am. I look forward to running in the daylight.  I was particularly excited yesterday morning to see the sun come out.  But it did not last long at all. I ran for 75 minutes and then it disappeared about halfway through my jaunt. Oh well, steel-gray it is. I like to call this time of year Solstice Time.  By the time we turn back the clocks in November, Mother Earth has already begun to shift its axis. As Thanksgiving arrives, one can almost feel darkness’ descent upon us. We begin our seasonal hibernation. We become ensconced in our homes- cut off from the world-seeking the solace of “comfort food” and the steady stream of  television noise.

It is easy to lose sight (no pun intended) of what this time can give to us. In reality, the true darkness only lasts but a few weeks (at least where I live).  After the Winter Solstice, the days begin to get longer again if only in minute increments. I refuse to spend this short time complaining about the lack of light. Really, that would be wishing time away, and none of us can afford to do that.

So this season I am embracing the sunless world as best I can. As a runner, I need to pay close attention to the weather in order to plan my workouts efficiently. It is incredibly easy to roll over at 4:30 am and avoid dealing with the cold, black ice, or snow that may very well accompany the light less predawn hours. But once I take that first step-no honestly once I pass the first mile, who am I kidding(!!)-I have no regrets. The world is positively still.  Sometimes the moon is up and so, too, the stars (that is when it is really cold!).  I try to soak it all in as slowly, but surely the day begins to turn from a deep, deep black to a charcoal gray. Previous to this season, it seemed that a switch would suddenly turn on and it would be bright. No so now. The day is very monochromatic-gray, gray skies and black skeleton like trees. There is something starkly beautiful about the landscape.

I have noticed also that people seem to dress much like Mother Nature looks. It is as if we are all in a state of mourning! And while I do have my share of black in my wardrobe (it is slimming), this year things are very different. Purples, pinks  and outrageously deep tie-dye colors abound! No black winter jackets either. Red fleece, light blue, raspberry and plum are where it’s at. Plus my multicolored polka dot gloves! I like to the think my fashion sense stands in sharp contrast to the  dullness around me.

I want my new found attitude to be a foil for the moods of those around me. And I want it to be contagious! Getting out into the unlit day changes your very being. Your thoughts slow down; you become more observant (watch out for wildlife!) and even more prayerful.  I don’t even think of the day ahead of me. I let myself be in the moment- thinking of others during this time and send out my good intentions to them. And while I am in my moving mediation,  I am turning inward too; contemplating my place in the world and hoping that I am making it better somehow.

Lesson learned from last night (when the lights eventually came back on): the darkness never lasts forever as much as we worry that it will.