"I look out the window. The view is obstructed by two very large, very old birch trees. I've always loved birch, the contrast between the white bark textured by various shades of black scars, small upside down pear shaped leaves, thousands of them or a least I imagine that many, who could know for sure, each one a brilliant lime green beauty.
Today the green has been invaded by yellow…daffodil yellow, a perfect yellow for sure but still an unwelcome addition because I know what follows. When did that happen, overnight? Was there yellow yesterday? I have to breathe, switch it up, big ins and big outs. It helps with the panic. I do find the mix of the two, green and yellow soothing. Change isn't always bad, is it? If I tilt my head to the right and squint slightly I can get the two to melt together and become a new shade of green, I like it. It's a welcome break from the lime. I can pretend it’s a different view from the one I have shared my mornings with for the last 60 plus days. I wonder, can the beauty of the green begin to fade if its the only colour you see? Are the changes mother natures way of keeping us satisfied, keeping us from becoming bored with her? Mothers do like to please.
The trees have turned from an obstruction to distraction. Watching the leaves flutter individually and sway in groups, back and forth and back, the sun hitting flat glossy surfaces turning yellow and lime to white, each leaf fighting for their moment in the sun, twisting and turning wildly for the opportunity to be shined on… just like the rest of us I suppose.
The distraction is good for me. I know this because the doctor told me so "You need a distraction. Get away, find some peace." Peace? Really is that even a thing… I'm sure it is but for the life of me I can not recall what it feels like, what I wouldn’t do to be reminded. I'm sure she meant something larger than staring out the front window watching leaves turn but right now I will take what I can get.
All this adds a layer to my sadness. A heaviness like the old quilt your Mom would add when you were chilly at night. I look and imagine the slow take over of the yellow and sigh deeply sipping my coffee and try to take one moment at a time. The cold is coming. I'm not happy about it, I’m not a winter girl but like all things no matter how hard we wish on the wishiest star, pray to the goodliest god or promise the ultimate promise, we can not stop the unstoppable or change what refuses to be changed. The leaves will all be yellow, green will slowly retreat, many will fall and then brown will take over until every last one has fallen and the girl will still be gone.
Breathe…big ins big outs. I shake it off and start day 64."
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