Dawn O Watson | CNBNewsnet
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‘Tis the time for observing the pristine scenery from a cozy kitchen window. It is a time to watch as the wind whips down Broadway, sending the trash cans scurrying like so many round soldiers, fighting a battle to stand their ground.
It is a time to rejoice in the sound of cars rutting on unyielding black ice, years of tire tread being sent to Goodyear Heaven as they go back and forth, back and forth, over streets unplowed and unfurrowed by the city’s noble cavalry.
It’s wonderful to gaze outside at the chairs, which magically appear at night to mark a private place for special vehicles, owned by special people that lay claim to things they do not own and for which they will not be held accountable.
How awesome the sight of loose wires streaming onto frozen fields, their sparks a reminder of man’s tenuous grip on life, itself.
And the young people! Walking to and fro, their legs exposed to the elements, showing their bravery by donning shortened pants; how crimson their skin where it is marked by extreme temperatures! Such heroics!
And the elders! Their careful steps as they take shovel to snow, looking death in the face as their adult children fry bacon, indoors.
Ah, the cacophony of sound as the feral cats jockey for position out of the frost, rejoicing in the haven created by the aforementioned, over-turned trash cans.
Soon, spring will melt the snow, the chairs will be replaced by small, empty bottles that once held a moment’s escape from the realities of the world. Our steps will be cautious, still; dogs abound and will defecate freely on sodden turf.
Behold my shoe!
Until the time of renewed life, let us savor the frost as we ponder the meaning of the written words, presented thus. Life is a circle, my friends, its meaning a mystery.
Photo of Freedom Pier and the Delaware River credit: Joe Hargeshimer