By Alexandria Somirs
On the last day of autumn, Winter spoke to the Harvest Moon.
“I can be cruel sometimes…” said Winter to the Moon.
“How so?” asked the Moon.
“Well I work hard during this time of year, blowing from the Arctic I travel half the atmosphere trying to cover lands and lakes with snow. I drop mercury hard until he only sees the negativity in degrees. I do a lot of cruel things and everyone runs and hides away from me. I’m the big, bad wolf that scratches at doors and I’m the dark, white prince that steals warmth from windows and rooftops.” Winter said with a cold, heavy sigh.
“But isn’t it your nature to be cruel?” asked the Moon.
“Yeah, but does it have to be?” asked Winter.
“What is the nature of things? Isn’t nature in itself a most volatile and changing element in the reality things live in? Why can’t I, Winter, change my character and become a mild and temperate season?” asked Winter to the Moon.
“Well I suppose I wouldn’t know, I, the Moon, am a white rock in the sky, dancing around this changeable planet. I don’t experience the changes of low tides and high tides and I don’t have a mirror to observe the different faces I express on the earthlings below. I only hear the stories and tales of me from the children below and I’m not even sure they are all true. For one, how can I be half a face and whole at the same time? I too, have my dilemmas with fairytales.” said the Moon.
“Are these the whispers I hear from the fireplaces and hearths when I pass through”? Fairytales?” asked the Winter.
“A better question is, who was the one who put doubt in your nature?” asked the Moon.
“It was Global-Warming.” said Winter.
And so Winter said goodbye to the Moon and decided to go on holiday for some needed self-reflection.
Photo by Alexandria Somirs