Walden Pond, I miss you

Today is a day of deep breathes and reminders that winter gives way to spring. After a night of strange, disconcerting dreams, I had difficulty starting the day. Even with lingering remnants of night, there is a light. There is much to live for and celebrate in my waking world. I continue to make strides in my dissertation, and it is meaningful, rewarding work. My arms are slowly healing.

I think I have been doing pretty well keeping my spirits up this winter. It is so much lighter here than Southeast Alaska. The roads and fields stay fairly clear and walkable so one need not attempt to tread on a thick layer of ice. I have continued my efforts to simplify my life, choosing myriad material items of all sizes to give away and sell.

With all this effort, the winter season still seems to creep into the nooks and crannies left open until I realize that I am having trouble breathing and moving a little more slowly than usual. This morning dawned grey and slushy. My spirits feel equally slushy and lethargic, and the glass doesn’t seem to have liquid in it at all.

Melodramatic, I know. I also know that this too shall pass. I will keep on writing and my dissertation will be finished. I will earn a degree. The sun will shine, buds will appear, and the wood thrush will arrive and sing its haunting song in the quaint, New England woods.

Tomorrow, January will make its final appearance and give way to February. The waters of Walden will warm. Once again, I will step into the pond, dig my toes into the soft, wet earth, feel the sand between my toes, and lift off the ground into another world where I feel closer to home—a world between the earth and sky where I am in my element, water.