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Rhin
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looking out my window, brings into view my hibernating crabapple. she is always so beautiful in the fall, but the beauty is bittersweet. i love to sit outside watching her dance about as the breeze tickles every single limb. this time every year, her leaves are the color of fire-kissed gold & a striking deep apple red. Each leaf is the size of the rim of an ordinary juice glass, and when the breeze blows them, they dance about like charms on a bracelet. when I see them begin to fly through the air, I always have the strongest craving to want to feel them against my skin...almost as much as I love to feel a willow branch swaying in the wind, slapping at my skin, and winding it's way through my hair as if it were a snake seeking warmth. life moves me. sometimes i feel it so strongly, that it brings me to me knees in tears. yet, other times, it just saddens me. as for my crabapple...well she sleeps. it's difficult not to think of her as being dead, as that is the way she appears. i remind myself that under her rugged coat, blood courses through her limbs. i have thought of constructing a greenhouse to house her, so that she would remain awake all year through. however, the very thought of caging her saddens me even more. i shall sit here and wait. every spring, I am elated at her awakening, and all of those beautiful snowwhite buds. she always feels my longing, and decides to once again breathe, if only for my sake. ::sigh::
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