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| What I feel Most of the time |
Been shrouded in wind since I could remember to listen. So far away, yet something always on the mind. Georgia? Alaska? Utah? Delaware??? Today though is different. There are still dogs running around, but this time they are soaking wet. On a break from life, searching for a tunnel through the ice as old as Jesus, a pitter patter appears. Although at first it goes unnoticed by pent up something being let out on freestanding stalactites of icicles. A bright turquoise lake forms to the stern of the glacier. It is rising! Mass balance would explain the rise, but this topic is, for once put to the hidden depths of my brain where how to solve a Rubik cube and images of my mouth oral surgeries are stored.
It now takes on a form of a slight drizzle before the bulk of the thunderheads. That is when I notice and apprehend my consciousness and steer my attention towards the melting glacier posing as anything far from ostentatious. Succumbing to the drips was easy. Leaving was not.
I sat for what seemed a lifetime and a good one at that, mesmerized and lulled into a tranquil dream that reminded me of my cousins house in Oregon. Looking out the window, feeling warmth from the house. Again taken by the harshness outside yet yearning again for the brute eye to return. This glacier was only audible to those who wished to listen, and sounded like the drips outside that window after the main force of the storm had passed leaving only remnants who were too slow or small to escape that terminal velocity to fall gently but rhythmically onto little puddles created by its predecessors. It is this dream that fills me with ecstasy and warmth as it is now warm enough to dawn the outer epidermis in all its flesh. This peace is then broken on the way back by the stampeding roar of a stream not flowing an hour prior, rushing with all fury of hell past the gauge box. Stream flow has begun.....
I posted a video here of the glacier, but you have to listen closely to hear the drips and stream.
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