Wide Open Spaces

Winter always gives me cabin fever.  I feel compacted, reserved and bound.  My soul becomes restless with the starkness of the days, the lack of light, and the frigid air.  I find myself dissatisfied with the complacency of every day life, the mundane bleariness, the Earth lacking color, lacking scents, and blooms, creatures and friendly songs.  It's only January, with months of this season ahead, and we have been blessed with a gentle, warm winter thus far.  I fear the wanting of spring will be met with wrath, and Mother Nature and I shall do a dance of wits.

I crave warm breezes and fields; my soul yearns for wide open spaces.  If I close my eyes, and breathe deep, I can almost take myself where a tree stands, tall and strong.  It bends when it needs to bend, and stands strong, rooted deep.  I can see the clouds whispering across the sky, painting tales for dreamers.  I can feel the tall grass brushing across my legs, I can see for a mile in every direction.  The wind is at my back, breaking over a ridge off the river.

My day dreams shall carry me through the stark winter, and take me to spaces where my feet can feel the Earth.  They will take me to a place where the smell of leaves, and fields, and flowers fill my senses.  And in my dreams I will crumble the soil in my hands, reacquainting myself with Earth, and give to it gifts of growth and life.  My nights will be filled with sky dances on moon beams, and summer rains, freshness and light.

This is my place where the world is right, my soul is free, and even in the recesses of my mind, there are wide open spaces. I am grateful for daydreams, and wide open spaces.