Seasons Come and Seasons Go

Written for

ID: 1397958   (Rated: E) Title: ~Snow~Storm~Contest ~CLOSED~  Description: Write a short story about a snow storm and win GP's! By: Jacinda (rella)

The sun was shining, it was going to be a beautiful day. The first day of Summer, June 21st. A day for playing outdoors and treasuring the warmth of the sun, as Summer made her way into our lives. It had been a harsh winter that lasted clear through spring. Normally the seeds would have been planted in the gardens around late April or mid May. Not this year. The ground was still frozen then. Now though, the sun was out and the frost was gone. The trees were in full bloom and the birds were singing in their branches. It was a great day for taking a hike.

Packed lunch in hand, I left the house and began crossing the fields behind the shed out back. Just a few more fences to climb, and I would be at the base of the mountain. The fields were alive with dancing wild flowers of many colors. It was here Crayola drew her muse for creating new crayons. There was every color for the painter's palette out here in the wilderness.

A slight breeze took the sting out of the sun as it rose in the sky; cool enough to almost quench your thirst, but leaving just enough warmth that you contemplated taking off your long sleeve shirt and continuing on in your tank top. The hike was an easy one, I had done it many times before. If I wasn't so afraid of the dark, I could probably do it without the light of day to see by.

I stopped half way up the mountain to enjoy my lunch. Looking back over the surrounding valley offered a beautiful view. Peace and serenity were all you could feel when taking in this view. I was tilting my head back to swallow the rest of my water, when I felt the change around me.

Looking back now, I would say that it was the calm before the storm. The silence was so profound and intrusive that it was deafening, for I couldn't hear a thing. The birds had all gone quiet. The trees weren't rustling to and fro any longer. The tall grass stood like soldiers waiting. Everything was waiting. For what?

I looked around, searching earth and sky to find the source of this strange creeping sensation. I couldn't see it, but still sensed it's approach. After what seemed like several minutes, I saw and heard the suspect. A long thin gray line was just clearing the horizon. It was silent, well at first any way. As it grew closer it filled all space behind it, becoming darker as it made its approach. It brought a moan that increased to a shriek then a wail.

It was here, rushing at me. As the gray sky clouded above me, the once slight breeze that had ceased to exist found the courage to muster up a gale of profound proportions. It became a wall of bricks that struck without warning. I was thrown backward with the blow. This wall of fury seemed to engulf me as it moved forward. The sun disappeared. Thick ash began to burn my skin as it rushed at me from the sky. Wait. This wasn't ash, it was snow. Snow that was being blown so hard and so fast, it felt like little pellets of heat igniting my skin. It was painful. My eyes were just open with a squint for I couldn't see with the wind blowing it's wrath at me anyway. I looked around for some sort of shelter. If I could make it to the patch of trees a few yards away, I might find some protection.

I closed my eyes, drawing forth the strength and courage to muster myself into movement. In that instance time stopped. Silence surrounded me. I opened my eyes and blinked. With that shutter of my lids, the sun re-appeared with its warmth and protection.

Had I imagined this? What just happened? Looking down, I saw the trace of droplets in the dust at my feet. Turning slowly around, I scanned the sky. No, not an illusion, it was the last hurrah of Father Winter as he headed off into the mountains, taking his breath of snow and bristling cold with him. The wall of bitter rage was marching on-ward as nothing could stop it. I watched that force of nature disappear into the wilderness of hibernation.

It was going to be a very weird day. I had to walk home yet, and I wasn't sure of what had just happened. I did know this: "Seasons Come and Seasons Go". Maybe though, they didn't all like to leave.