Friday, February 04, 2005

Masquerade

Spring has put on a mask today. She’s dressed down in browns and grays and blacks - littered her landscape with piles of muck-ridden snow and trees left unadorned. My view from the sterile enclosure of Suite 200 overlooking the Target parking lot completes the mirage – to the naked eye winter’s cruel, bleak, icy hand maintains its grip on the Twin Cities.

The respite is swift. Exiting the concrete cube that contains me for hours and hours at a time, the sun bathes my face, neck and shoulders in warmth and light, washes the bitter chill and darkness of winter away, breathes welcomed warm air into my lungs. The warmth filters through my skin and is carried through my veins to every frigid extremity, melting the icy buildup several months in the making. It feels like life.

My only wish is that the mask come off.

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