Wednesday, January 2, 2013

the thoughts that save you

"Well it's a new year, with it comes more than new fears.
Met a young man who was in tears, he asked me,
"What induces us to stay here?"
I said, "I don't know much and I'm not lying,
But I think you just have to keep on trying."

And I know I am naive, but if anything
That's what's going to save me
That's what's going to save me"

One of my Flickr contacts posted this song yesterday, and I can't stop replaying it. I suppose partly because we keep asking ourselves, what induces us to stay here? The days, currently, are 7 hours 36 minutes long. So many of our friends have moved away, are planning on moving. Maybe you have to be naive to live here. To let the particular silence and solitude of this place eat into you. The darkness, the cold of winter, turns you brittle. Delicate in ways that you can't imagine in summer. The place tries to erase you and you let it you want to disappear into the snow and you wish on the snowflakes that land on your eyelashes as easily as others wish on butterflies or lottery tickets. 

Maybe it's walking along this stretch of the highway that has me strung out these days. The huge power  poles, the way the wire hangs in the sky for impossible lengths. And the coyotes that live in these trees, waiting, their hungry eyes watching you as you walk by. In the winter we are all coyotes.

The pink sky at sunrise, hallucinatory, fleeting. The frost, never lasts. Dreamers like a severe winter, so says Baudelaire. But it's one thing to talk about the cosmic negation, and another to live the obliteration.  

Maybe it's the winter that makes poets of us. Maybe that's the thought that's going to save me. If anything.


  1. I just wrote a piece about Edmonton winter for the 40 Below project, and have been contemplating how I survived winter, and how hard it was for me to leave at 17, and yet now I can't imagine moving back.

  2. Would love to read that Margaret - be sure and let me know if there's a link!

  3. I think if you grow up here in the north you are vaccinated against the winter dark enough that you can survive. That being said, winter just seems to be beginning. sigh...strange we don't hibernate like bears.

  4. Perhaps the dim short days require a poet's eye to find that delicacy. These are beautiful pictures.

  5. Maybe we aren't becoming brittle, but are just growing our winter coat, so that we may walk among those ghostly frosted trees and capture images like these. Well done.

  6. Thank you all....and yes, a winter coat, I like that idea....


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...