TheBanyanTree: Missing Snow

[NancyIee at aol.com]

I was sitting in the waiting area of the eye doctor, my eyes gradually 
dilating after the drops. There were a couple of scenic pictures on the walls, 
watercolors of northern places; maple trees ablaze in color beside a cool lake, 
umbrellas a-tilt on sandy beaches, and a city bridge at night with pearls of cars 
strung along its length. They were all scenes that could have been my home 
town. Yet, there was one that tugged at me, held my attention, caused my ghostly 
eyesight to burn. It was a train chugging through a showy woods, the wheels 
churning up a blizzard of ice crystals.

I hated the brutal winters and could not fathom why this picture of the 
cruelest season should affect me so. One of the reasons I left that place was the 
endless winters. Staring at the painting, I felt the ice on the back of my 
neck, the bite of the wind on my face. There was something so desolate and lonely 
about the scene, the train pushing soundlessly through the silent snow, the 
leafless woods. I felt homesick for that place where the fingers and toes went 
numb in minutes and tears froze eyelashes together, where words spiraled upward 
in clouds of frozen breath.

It was ninety degrees outside the eye doctor's office and the tropical sun 
glistened off the leaves of the lush plants along the drive. People walked by in 
shorts, halter tops, and flip-flops. I had planned, after my visit, to stop 
at the beach for a late afternoon dip in the calm waters.  Yet, I knew I 
wouldn't go there today. I would go somewhere to ponder flying snow and bare 
branches and something below zero and why I missed it so.
NancyLee