Winter’s come unexpectedly. Yeah. Here it is.
Timid and reckless, telling me I have to cover up and stay still. Winter never
comes alone, except this time it did. I don’t know why, but I feel unable to
ask. Winter’s moody. I must confess, there are times when I miss it, and when I
see it, I have that satisfaction everyone feels once they get what they’ve
desired for long; other times it’s weird. Winter can be harsh if it wants to.
Or if it has to. Winter is older than me. We met long ago. I remember that
time. It was Summer’s farewell and Winter was on a mission, it was determined to
attend and wish Summer a happy travel. Sad day, though. Summer was into stars
and eclipses. That night I was told the Moon and the Sun were planning to meet
like they hadn’t done in millennia, a fact that remains a mystery since no one
actually got to see it. There were stars for sure. Winter looked up at them and
stared. Stared. Stared. It didn’t move expecting Summer to give it a reason for
not waiting. Summer knew it’s always tough for Winter to show up, but the stars
distracted it. I reckon the stars wanted the attention of the four of us indeed.
I looked up as they moved from left to right and backwards. They gave us the
impression of coming down to us. See? I can describe it so easily, but
recalling Winter at that time, rushing carelessly to tell Summer goodbye is almost
a shade. Then, Winter showed up, less white, bluer, tired and excited. I passed
out without noticing for some years due to the impression. Not even Spring got
away with it. I can’t tell exactly what Spring did, but after Winter decided
not to wait for Summer any longer, Spring and I met and then it told me it was
as absent as I was. “The ice age`s gone!”, screamed the Moon when it saw me
yawning and moving. I realized time had passed over and things were definitely
different. There was a greater connection between Spring and me. I looked for
Winter. I wanted to see it. Winter had looked for Summer. Spring grabbed me
harder than anyone had ever done, shocked and desperate. Spring needed to give
Earth life back. It did. I helped a little unfocused. Winter faded away. Spring
spent days of agonizing joy and celebration, making me go distracted unaware of
what surrounded me. One night I saw the Moon crying, and you know when the Moon
is crying because nights get wet and the seas uneven, waves grow taller and
aggressive. It expands. The Moon cried long and long. I’m shy. I was concerned.
The Moon noticed me and blew me a kiss. No hugs. No smiles. A kiss. A single
kiss means nothing when there’s neither hugs nor smiles. A single kiss is a
sign of depression, confusion, and betrayal. A single kiss is sometimes a sign
of pitifulness. I don’t accept pitiful kisses. That’s for losers. The Moon had
a great loss and that’s why it cried. It waited till Spring had completely gone
to tell me a story about an evil friend who stole love from it. The Moon has
only been in love with one in particular. It reminded me of myself. I’ve only
loved once and one. The Moon knew Spring loved eclipses and had planned to make
one with the Sun, so one night it tried to turn darkness into a bright day
joining the Sun, but all it saw was a weak Winter sending ice flakes to outer
space, heartshaped flakes turned into magical drops impossibly caught by the
Sun which actually evaporated them. It was magic to them how ice ended up all
as gas. Winter lost it strength after so
much interaction with the Sun. It almost vanished, so the Sun would rather back
off and let Winter heal. Winter accepted and rested. The Moon told the Sun
about its plans and the Sun found them magical as well. They did it. They
eclipsed us. What a wonderful union it was for us, not for Winter. Days and
nights became hot and dry. The Earth got sick and Winter seemed careless. How
wrong was I. I was hopeful. I expected Winter come and hug me, kiss me with a
smile, but no. Winter’s come unexpectedly. Yeah. Here it is. Timid and
reckless, telling me I have to cover up and stay still.
Millán, Randold.
A los 6 días del mes de mayo. 2015.