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A Dance of the Seasons

By: Ivana Segvic-Boudreaux

Within the whispers of spring, winter’s insurrection brought down the encore of a season that was to leave the stage. The buds abloom frozen in time as a northerly gale swept through the corners of a state unfamiliar with such weather. In fact, it carried its cause to other corners of the nation.

Businesses closed.

The skies turned gray.

School came to a halt.

Streets moaned in cold loneliness.

Families wailed… and prayed for the dozens and hundreds of thousands of souls gone.

This was the storm anticipated, yet unforeseen. This was the brewing, boiling storm that was left on the stove too long, without the glance of a caring eye.

It was the rose that never blossomed.

The peach bud that froze and lay in the weeds, drying, dying.

It was the tempest that appeared to be localized, yet eagerly gnawed on the core of this country, spreading its cancerous cells, multiplying, while we did not or chose not to see.

Although the calendar announced the coming of spring; winter would not give way. The heaviness of its snow contorted boughs and obscured the colors of spring in hues of cold, unsympathetic winter. It gnashed its teeth, it showed its fist, it cried out that it shall not relinquish its power to the renewal of spring.

Some agreed and welcomed winter. Some wished winter would never leave, but instead it should coddle them in its cold, monarchial, clutches while orating, bellowing of their importance and superiority among all others. Some preferred, even admired, the authority winter grasped on to. For winter dreamed of not just being winter, but the king of seasons, reigning immortally, eternally against all rules.

Yet, there were some, a few, who gave in to the warming thaw of the fireplace and began to soften and defrost. Like ladybugs drawn indoors by a cold frost, some found their warmth and began to hope for spring.

Others, more than the some, stood proudly with the hope of spring. They watched the frozen blossoms for much too long. Until they joined together to bring passion and warmth to help thaw the delicate buds, bring them to life once more. They gathered in large groups, helping to defrost the frozen life of spring. Until one day, the ice began to melt.

Winter still surrounds them all. A spell is difficult to break after it has been cast. Yet with each day spring becomes stronger. While the winter’s cold still reaches into spring, its influence and strength recede each day.

In the future, summer plans its alignment with spring.

And all will be well.

Photos & Story by:

Ivana Segvic-Boudreaux

February 10, 2021

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