The Seasons

A short story about the seasons and dealing with loss and love.


4. Winter; Reconciliation

As I stand under the blossom tree in winter solitude, I immerse myself in Vivaldi's Four Seasons; Winter. My mother once said “I want to be one with the sea, and drown beneath the surface for eternity”. I refuse to give into disparity; this melody brings forth memories of seasons passed. One of these days I will be of the winter wind, and we will both return to the blossom tree, when it is my turn to die. But until then I am on a pursuit of serendipity, I have been brought out of the deepest of oceans. As I stand, violin in hand, I discover that the stars can always be found in the darkest of nights, if only I remember to look up.     

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