Snow Spell
Years ago, my kids and I emerged from
our evening swim to discover an April
snowstorm coming down in huge fat wet
flakes. I stood under a lamppost to see the
snow better; and found I wasn’t aware of the
ground or anything around me. I underwent
an eerie sensation; the flakes were no longer
falling down, but standing still, while I was
rushing upward with the speed of the falling
snow. I felt dizzy; I was flying without wings,
speeding upward forever, into the vast darkness.
I called the kids and we all stood, balanced off
the earth while we flew; we were all enchanted.
We must have soared for fifteen minutes before
we remembered our wet heads. Such moments
almost always come unexpectedly, and usually
don’t last as long as our magical flight.
2024 Jacqueline Jackson
This article appears in Talking trash.
