My heart is spring in January. I can feel it in my bones when it's about to rain. The smell, the unearthing of everything we buried. It's the way in grief too.
Anniversaries are the seasons we never can quite escape. Pulling us back into the tundra & frozen in time. We revisit the moments as if they never quite left us.
I swear each year the midwesterners must reckon the seasons changing yet again, but each winter all still feels the same to them....
Like it was the very first time.
Jan 13, 2023
Jan 13, 2023 at 1:27 AM UTC
My heart is spring in January. I can feel it in my bones when it's about to rain. The smell, the unearthing of everything we buried. It's the way in grief too.
Anniversaries are the seasons we never can quite escape. Pulling us back into the tundra & frozen in time. We revisit the moments as if they never quite left us.
I swear each year the midwesterners must reckon the seasons changing yet again, but each winter all still feels the same to them....
Like it was the very first time.