Friday, February 12, 2010

Niagara - Spring in Fall


Gold-yellow leaves in elegant parade welcome me, lone survivors of the first winter storm, a splash of color against the grey sky; instantly uplifting, like green shoots of emergent grass after long hibernation. The concern shrouding my mind is broken by those remnant leaves – the vivid hue penetrates vicious circles of despair, breaking the mold, letting me off the treadmill of doubt. Warmed by those colors, I straighten my back and lengthen my stride, easing into this run for renewal.

The rumbling spray of the falls fills my mind – the cloud rising from the gorge is medicinal – smoke signals of hope – the roar of pounding water is a thousand drummers exhorting me to run faster, to move forward, to carry on. I must suck the energy of these endless waters, learn their unfaltering drive, absorb their unending passion.

I am at the water’s edge, looking down at the black rocks a hundred – no, a thousand – feet below. The gulls ignore the roiling water, serenely swooping to sate their hunger, their calm glide punctuates this maelstrom with grace and serenity. I will be this water, pounding, rushing, a driving force filled with energy. Like the rocks, I will be strong, withstanding the constant force, eternal – a survivor.

But it is the gulls I envy their peace.

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