hug the trees

 

woman on the edge/passing thoughts st random 

on my way back from the seventeen hour drive across the northern country I found myself thinking and reflecting on why in sheer madness did I attempt this?—as going there was every much a nightmare as this was proving to be ….driving back—both times seventeen or more hours because of winter storms so i was facing …The North Country’s endless Ice Age

I only saw a snow ball driving—as I was in it like the kind you shake 

just endless white

   sheer terror 

 anyway as the lady driving me in the uber back from the rental to get home; she was a local I found myself glad of her light local conversation ….saying how the bright lights flashing all night as she drove was not something she was looking forward to …

we connected as that was my seventeen hours …. two ways 

a pilgrimage 

   but then I suddenly realized why ….! 

       why do they????

When she said,

“You know, damn it all, this year I’m keeping my tree up until spring —it’s the only spot of color we get for months!”

Now—duhhhh

Why do they keep their Christmas trees up until spring rolls around. And some still…. even then 

all that sheer white …. miles of white. Sky. Ground. Horizon. The sun never comes up. It stays this fluorescent glare of gray not day nor night 

    it felt like I was stuck in purgatory 

no relief until I whipped myself to the bone 

And then more white still 

It is because of the evergreen. The only patch of color you get to see in the mountains. In the frozen high altitude mountains where your ears pop as you drive home from the Midwest, right by Canada it pops like your ear drums will explode. So ….its endless night here all winter and there is no color anywhere. Like someone dumped bleach over everything. And then a lot of sea gulls shat everywhere on top 

For eight to nine months ….ice age Viking style but trapped inside like cave people. 

Maybe until Valentine’s Day—a week after that when to dust the tree again gets obnoxious