The Winter Wars

Winter is a deadly companion to those of us who stay behind. Spring is not guaranteed, only a lonesome song, frozen on the lips of my fellow crusaders. The tip of the spear belongs to the "Ice Warrior" Camouflaged under a dusting of snow, ink black like the night or mind bending off sun glare, always eager to send cars sailing and people falling. I was one of the lucky ones...I fell on ice and broke my arm. I knew I would see Spring...first paying a painful toll. Political insanity mostly fills the front page in Winter, the truth of those lost forever to its treachery only whispered in the "B" section. Those of us who survive for one more Spring and Summer bare a different attitude than our fellow snow birds. You'll see us standing alone among forest wildflowers...or sitting quietly on a dolomite boulder overlooking Lake Superior. Oblivious to all but our grateful senses, humbled by our fragile existence. Minnesota Winter 2017