Tired Helium Warrior Regirds To Burn Again

January 1, 2013

New Years Day. An approximate calendarial construction. Not like the solstice, which is fixed, planetary, or even galactic. At the instant of the solstice our tired helium warrior begins to find it in himself to regain his former strength. Day by day a few more lingering minutes of faltering illumination bless a darkened landscape. And even if the thermal mood remains frigid and forbidding and the Pacific Ocean extends a somber blanket across our skies, our hearts slowly rise and acknowledge a hope that is always there.

These are days to get through in the Pacific North West. No bright frosty Currier and Ives New England scenes for us; only the dull leaden weight of an aerial ocean hanging always on the verge of falling. We find our path to brighter times, still moist, with games and jokes that acknowledge the drippy truth and point either forward to the dry time or relish the other side of rain. The good side. Our forests, rivers and fields are superlatives of their kind and feed hungrily this dark wet time to stay that way.

I glimpsed our tired warrior today, peering wanly between folds of the suspended ocean looking for his old burning fields. I raised my hand in salute to the force I know that rules my days, though masked and muted a while he will as ever burn us once more.

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