Late night blizzards. -
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#1 of 1 Old 12-05-2009, 03:44 PM - Thead Starter
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Join Date: Apr 2005
Location: Calgary, Alberta
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There is a video circulating out there in cyberspace of the research station at the South Pole. A scientist leads us down a long corridor into a vestibule that is covered in frost and ice. “Are you ready?” she asks, and with a grin a mile wide she opens the door to what can best be described as the heart of chaos, a hurricane of snow in the black South Pole night. The door slams shut and the roar of the wind is cut off, replaced by laughter as the video ends.

The night is nowhere near as dark here in the overly lit city, and the wind is perhaps not as strong, although there are gusts that exceed 50 miles per hour. I am sitting in the comfort of my living room staring out. Just staring. I cannot sleep, my thoughts just will not let me rest.

Great drifts of snow are migrating across the circle, piling up in the road. A leaf skates up the drift, gets caught in the wind and is blown back, only to start its journey again, and again, and again, until it surrenders to the wind and is blown off up and over the houses and out, somewhere else.

From time to time a gust shakes the house and I can feel the growling of the storm in the bones of our home. The snow is driven up against the window, obscuring everything beyond the glass in a darkness of white.

Earlier I had been out there standing alone in the madness of the storm, listening to the sound of the snow falling, straining my ears to catch it over the insistent wind. There is something spooky about a storm such as this, as if in the elemental fury of the blizzard a layer of reality is stripped away like the skin from an onion and we come into contact with another plane. I can well understand stories of ghosts and goblins, creatures of ice and snow who own this weather.

And yet this is something I can claim as my own, even though I am sitting in comfort away from the icy blast.

The chaos of the storm is overwhelming in its power and in its persistence. The storm of thoughts and worries inside me are nothing in comparison. I sit and stare, just stare. Quiet comes at last, almost in spite of my efforts. I can understand the laughter of the South Pole scientist.

The snow piles up against our house, the wind chases its tail in great circles through our yard. Inside me there is stillness, and in the stillness dancing.

Purveyor of Awesome since 1958.


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