I have a two-part interview of one Sarah Masen up on the Image Journal “Good Letters” blog this week. It led me to this foto and I felt all kinds of sad, grief stuff for having left Nashville and the tremendous beautiful people we are now missing and then I was able to circle around the block and park in front of grateful once again, thankfully. I hope you’ll take a moment to check out the pieces on Good Letters and ultimately to listen to (and purchase) Sarah’s work. She really is remarkable and I’m not just saying that.
Whenever the weather turns warm I think of you.
I think of the earth inside of you beginning its thaw. Long held beliefs and fears live inside of you. They are like a child who is frightened wrapping her arms tightly to keep safe. When the winter comes, she turns to ice, she turns to stone.
But whenever the weather turns warm I think of you and the earth inside you beginning its thaw.
I imagine that child feeling the wind on her face. It is not the cold chill of winter, the fiery frost of freezing but rather the air of hope that blows in from somewhere in the deep south, from an island in the ocean that knows nothing of fear.
I imagine the earth inside you letting go, loosening its grip, sinking back into your cells, your skin, your hair and then you are no longer stone, no longer ice. You are rich and clean and waiting for the first signs of life to spring up within you. You are the garden, you are the sapling, you are the leaves unfolding and beckoning the sun.
Whenever the weather turns warm I think of you and I’m reminded of the hope of spring, the hope that life begins again and again no matter how cold the winter.