My Psychic Blizzard.

In the month of November, I spend a lot of time on the couch with my eyes closed, soaking in the late afternoon sunlight. If you were to stumble upon me at such a moment, you would think I was doing nothing. But in truth, I am very very busy.

I am memorizing the colorful patterns the sunshine paints on the inside of my eyelids.

I am storing the sun’s warm glow in my bones.

I am committing to memory  the feeling of the sun’s  tingling heat as it plays across my skin.

Every year, I think that these preparations will be enough. That I will be able to call upon my store of internalized sunshine whenever the bleakness of the world begins to get to me. I swear that this time, I will get through the winter with my smile and my spirit intact.

But then January hits, bringing snow and ice and endless winter days. I get sick. I get cold. My feet feel constantly damp, my bones constantly chilled. No sweater is thick enough, no fire hot enough. My body feels starved for sunshine.

My step slows as I slog through the gray snowbanks.

My posture bows under the weight of the leaden sky.

My energy level dips as the frozen ground sucks the fire from me.

It is a blizzard of the soul, and I am trapped.

Then one day I gaze upwards and see a glimmer of light in the sky.

I glance down and see a patch of earth winking at me through the snow.

I bend down for a closer look and see this:

daffodils peek out of the ground

Hope rises again.

That tiny spark of green reaches out of the dirt and deep into my heart, bringing me to life again. My smile dazzles, my step bounces and my blood rejoices, for spring will surely come again.

This post was inspired by this week’s writing prompt by The Red Dress Club, which asked us to pretend we were trapped in a blizzard. I’m pretty sure this isn’t what they meant, but oh well. It’s all my muse had to give.

31 Comments on My Psychic Blizzard.

  1. Rebecca
    January 28, 2011 at 2:32 pm (5 years ago)

    At first I didn’t see it but then……..I felt hope. Thanks for sharing and this is a great piece.

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 28, 2011 at 9:25 pm (5 years ago)

      Thank you! There’s always a little hope to be had (well almost always) if you look hard enough!

      Reply
  2. Jennifer DIllon
    January 28, 2011 at 3:55 pm (5 years ago)

    I love the image of her storing the sunlight for later use, I thought for one second that she might be a cat. The fact that the entire winter was one long storm for her made me feel sympathy for her fatigue of spirit.

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 28, 2011 at 9:24 pm (5 years ago)

      I have often said that if I am reincarnated, I would like to come back as a pampered house cat. That is the life.

      Reply
  3. Jen
    January 28, 2011 at 4:18 pm (5 years ago)

    Stopping by from TRDC. This is really beautiful. I love the idea of storing up the sunshine for the winter.

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 28, 2011 at 9:24 pm (5 years ago)

      Thank you! If only we had internal solar cells…

      Reply
  4. Jessica Anne
    January 28, 2011 at 4:56 pm (5 years ago)

    A great idea, to store up the sunshine. I grew up in the Midwest, and there’s nothing like that first green peeking through. Thanks for reminding me of it.

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 28, 2011 at 9:23 pm (5 years ago)

      Those first flowers are a real miracle, in my book. If only I could see some now.

      Reply
  5. Andrea
    January 28, 2011 at 5:04 pm (5 years ago)

    Great interpretation of the prompt. I really enjoyed it, and the hope at the end!

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 28, 2011 at 9:22 pm (5 years ago)

      Thank you! Gotta have a little hope, right?

      Reply
  6. CDG
    January 28, 2011 at 5:43 pm (5 years ago)

    I, too, love the idea of storing sunlight, memorizing the colors on the back of my eyelids, but I draw as much joy from a frosty, clear winter sky as I do from summer sunshine.

    Good thing, too, as I live in New England, currently under 36″ of packed snow in the yard!

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 28, 2011 at 9:22 pm (5 years ago)

      I don’t think I could live in New England. Michigan is bad enough – as is Indiana.

      Reply
  7. Minky
    January 28, 2011 at 6:09 pm (5 years ago)

    Okay seriously? Those little green buds just made my day because I am so tired of now and cold. I want SUN and warmth and sandles and just…SPRING!

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 28, 2011 at 9:21 pm (5 years ago)

      Only 54 days left till the sun says its spring. It’s not too early to hope, is it?

      Reply
  8. Mandyland
    January 28, 2011 at 10:48 pm (5 years ago)

    First…visiting from TRDC and this is the first time at your site. LOVE your header. So clever.

    Okay…onward.

    My favorite line from this post was “I am storing the sun’s warm glow in my bones.” I knew exactly that feeling. It perfectly describes soaking up the warmth of summer and fall. It made me relax a little and then…you hit me with the blizzard only to bring me back to the warmth. Good job!

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 29, 2011 at 2:04 pm (5 years ago)

      Thank you! I tried to bring it back around…

      Reply
  9. Cheryl @ Mommypants
    January 29, 2011 at 12:27 am (5 years ago)

    Love the idea of storing the sun.

    I remember thinking I couldn’t take one more second of winter and suddenly seeing a glimpse of the coming spring. You described it perfectly!

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 29, 2011 at 2:04 pm (5 years ago)

      Yes, but now that you have palm trees in your front yard, you don’t need to store up sun! 😉 Sigh. And thanks!

      Reply
  10. Mrs.Mayhem
    January 29, 2011 at 10:53 am (5 years ago)

    I really like your use of descriptive words. I was right there with you, lounging and soaking up the sun. And then I could almost feel winter’s chill. Very nice!

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 29, 2011 at 2:03 pm (5 years ago)

      Thank you! Now if only I had some actual sun to soak up…

      Reply
  11. Ann
    January 29, 2011 at 10:34 pm (5 years ago)

    Absolutely beautiful Amber, like your name. I love the thought of, and the visual you write…
    “I am memorizing the colorful patterns the sunshine paints on the inside of my eyelids.
    I am storing the sun’s warm glow in my bones.
    I am committing to memory the feeling of the sun’s tingling heat as it plays across my skin.”

    Thank you Amber.

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 30, 2011 at 8:00 pm (5 years ago)

      Thanks so much! I admit, I was rather proud of that one myself.

      Reply
  12. Lydia
    January 29, 2011 at 11:12 pm (5 years ago)

    I really love where you went with the challenge! This is lovely, especially when hope springs again.

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 30, 2011 at 7:59 pm (5 years ago)

      Hope always does, doesn’t it? Usually when you least expect it.

      Reply
  13. Erin
    January 30, 2011 at 9:05 am (5 years ago)

    It is posts like this that made me fall in love with you & your writing.

    Colorful and engaging, so rich that when you finish reading you feel “full.”

    I have been in a barren desert of BLOCK – and this is just an oasis to me.

    Thank you, thank you, thank you.

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 30, 2011 at 7:59 pm (5 years ago)

      Thank you so much for the wonderful compliment. I hope your block takes care of itself soon.

      Reply
  14. Lady Jennie
    January 30, 2011 at 2:21 pm (5 years ago)

    It’s so true, but I feel like they’re coming out too soon. Global warming? January and February are the worst, aren’t they?

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 30, 2011 at 7:58 pm (5 years ago)

      That picture is from last year, actually. Our daffodils are still under six inches of snow. We’ve got another month, I think. Darn February anyway!

      Reply
  15. NotJustAnotherJennifer
    January 30, 2011 at 10:12 pm (5 years ago)

    Love the imagery! It may not be a blizzard of epic proportions, but sometimes winter lasts longer than it should and it can feel never-ending. :)

    Reply
    • Amber
      January 31, 2011 at 10:04 am (5 years ago)

      I’m pretty sure every winter lasts longer than it should. Why wasn’t I born in California again?

      Reply

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