The trees of my ascent into adulthood sway in the slight winter breezes and a midweight blanket of snow covers the ground, glistening starkly by moonlight against the dark swathe of the heavens. The sun has long set, it being the second shortest night of the year. Tomorrow, the solstice and the gradual return of lengthening light to my world. Ah, but tonight, tonight is the celebration, the beckoning, the welcoming of light back to the land. Armed with food to share and light hearts, we speed off to join our sisters and brothers in dance, chant, and song.
The sound of an ambulance always makes me cry. The pitiful wailing reminds me of how fragile the bonds of life really are. The rising and falling scream rarely signifies good tidings. Perhaps that’s why I cry. Deep inside, where I keep it carefully hidden, beats the heart of a sensitive.