Fall

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.