Winter Wait

Crunchy Snow Dunes.

Walking an unfamiliar route along the far side of the lake, I came to an area that opens up to a series of low mounds that roll down to the shore. In the summer these will be gently undulating with clumps of feathery grasses waving in the breeze.   

Now they are still, hard and crunchy, making me think of unkempt snow dunes. All the stalks leaning uphill, the breezes swept up from the frozen lake and bent them backwards.

"I am winter’s meadow grasses gone to seed wearing frayed regalia, drained of summer’s green. I will stand here steadfast in sun, sleet, snow waiting for the someday life rises from below”.

Liz Steinglass

Spring will surely come and the someday life will rise from below, but for now the bumpy hillside rests quietly just as it should.