Sunday, December 16, 2007

Out the Winter Window


In the winter, when a tired soul looks out the window, the lack of color can wear like a shroud.

When I was a child trees were for climbing. They were big, black, and huggable. Trees were as mighty and majestic God and as gentle as the creator who holds the world in his hands.

Sitting in the branches of a trees, I could be part of the scenery. Without thinking, I could look out knowing that life had a plan and a beauty. I reflect on that as a talent that comes naturally to a child.

Now I'm older, looking out a winter window at a gray day, a faraway day wishing for the sun and green leaves of summer. But I'm blessed and gifted with a childhood memory I can recall. It brings me back to the branches of trees that I hugged that hugged me.

Out the winter window, I see the colors of life and they fill my heart full.


On that last freezing wind, I sent every huggable memory to you.

--me liz strauss, lettingmebe




4 comments:

easywriter said...

I am looking at the same grey sky watching the wind driven snow and thinking how cold and bleak the day is. Thank you for making me look again and thank you for your huggable memories. :o)

And yes the words are flowing now, at least on my blog...who knows what will happen down the road. :o)

ME Strauss said...

Hi Easy!
That old gray sky is only a blanket over the blue. And when the night comes, we get the same deep indigo. Yeah!

I'm glad to hear your writer's words are with you. :)

Dawn said...

Hi Liz
I just discovered this post, and it spoke so loudly to me. The photo is much like I see out my window. This time of year the trees seem so forlorn and vulnerable, and sometimes I feel like that too. I know that we all need those times of darkness and stillness, time to be fallow and prepare for the growth spurt that follows. But every now and then, I find myself searching for those huggable memories that help transform the ice and snow and bitter cold.

Thank you.

ME Strauss said...

Hi Dawn,
I'm glad you found this. It's a hug and a promise. In every tree and flower still underground, spring is waiting to show. :)