natamuzyk

[natamuzyk]

 A Friend in the Winter

     I make friends in the winter. I open my home to strangers to shelter them from the cold. They come and stay until spring, when the spring wind carries them away. Most of the time, they are children of the dust like myself. Other common visitors are spiders who always leave such wonderful pieces of art for me as well as ants who are always so fascinating with their little marches and long winding lines. They often only talk about their queen. The mice are a lot less common, and are horrible brutish creatures, often tearing up the pieces of art the spiders leave, that aren't taken by the spring winds. 

     I may have issues with various visitors from time to time, but I enjoy their company year after year. Most bring stories from the world outside my home, and others may never speak. The most interesting guest I've had came a couple of winters ago. She was a four legged green creature, with skin like pebbles from a river, and a long tail that wiggled strangely from time to time. 

      She shared with me stories unlike any I had heard from the other visitors. She had apparently been around for as many winters as myself if not more. She had mothered many eggs in her time and traveled many lands I had never heard of. She described giants similar to the ones that bring the spring winds, as well as other four-legged giants that had fur like the mice. I told her of all the visitors I've had over these many winters, and how all my brothers and sisters of the dust had been taken by the spring winds. I told her how I look forward to reuniting with them one day when the spring winds take me. We talked for hours, and she asked to rest in my home. I gladly let her. She told me she would like to stay here as she was much too tired to continue her travels. I welcomed her to do so. 

     Two winters have passed now since she began her sleep. I've heard this referred to as "hibernation". Over time, her once smooth green river stone skin has become dull, dry and cracked, but she will always be beautiful to me. Her long once lively tail fell off a couple months ago, but she had told me that first night that it always grew back, so I'm not worried.

   Though she doesn't move or speak, I still talk to her. I tell her many more stories of the many visitors I have had. Each new visitor that comes always acts strange when I introduce her. Some tell me she won't wake up. They say that she'll fade away. I know it's not true. I know she'll talk to me again. Oh howI long for that conversation. She'll tell me more and more about her travels, and I in return can tell her more about all the interesting visitors I have had. She has to, right?

      Wait! I'm torn from my thoughts as I hear the giants approaching with their massive footsteps. I hear the familiar roaring that always heralds the spring wind. Sure enough, I feel the harsh breeze of the spring winds as it starts to pull all of the little crumbs the mice and ants leave. It pulls the little pieces of art the spiders have made for me. The spring winds seem stronger this year. I hear a strange noise, and glance over to my friend just in time to see her tail that had fallen off being taken. I want to call out in protest, but I know any sound I make will be drowned out by the roaring of the winds. I cannot resist, however, when I see my friend's limp form crumble to dust in the wind. I cry out in anguish, but it quickly turns to fear. Beneath me, I feel the floor start to separate from me. The spot where I have spent many winters was being torn away from me. I knew this day would come, but I was not prepared for it to be today. As only a small piece of me still clings to the floor, I wonder. Will I visit new lands? Will I see all those other children of dust soon? Will She be waiting for me wherever these winds take me? The thought comforts me as I let go, and let the spring winds take me.