Shifting Seasons

Shifting Seasons

A Story by Bill O. Writes

Wrote this a couple years back. Its really about a number of things. Interpret as you will.


     He stared, blankly into the open fields, admiring the beauty of the scene without truly thinking. In time his disposition changed. The winter no longer held that mystical wonder with the white blanket it brought. His eyes grew dull and became bored with the lack of stimulation. The skin on his body went pale but most importantly, his definition of beauty had changed.

     His passion for this place was dying. It infuriated him to think about the clichés of the winter and depression relationship but there was no denying it. This is what was happening.

     He only came to see something new, but never had a deep interest in it. The cold was refreshing when he got to this place. It was nice, the sharp air felt different in his lungs, the soft white powder beneath his steps was exciting, but still.

     This type of enjoyment can only last so long. The consistency was really beginning to agitate him. He needed variety. Anything besides snow would be amazing. Even a mix of sunny, rainy, cloudy days is what he desired, but he wasn't going to get that here.

     It only snowed. The storm was stagnant. It never moved and never changed. It was just a constant light snowfall. The essence of who he was finally overcame him and he remembered the warmth. He has been away from it far too long now.

     It was time to make a move. He pressed forward having only his two feet for travel. Walking in a straight line for miles his body grew weak and his knees began to buckle. His body had the final say and he dropped down to a kneel. He stayed there for some time with his eyes closed, in regret. Regret for ever coming here.

     When he recomposed himself, he opened his eyes. What he saw stunned him. A solitary green shaft, sticking out from the white canvas. Excited, his heart began racing and he swelled with emotion inside. He remembered the warmth like it was yesterday. The way the sun played off his face. The way it breathed life into the rest of nature is now being experienced by him.

     Every step brought him undoubtedly closer to the feeling of warmth being reacquainted with him. As more and more green blades emerged from the snow his pace quickened. His feet were lighter his heart began pumping harder.

     Like a gradient mesh the Earth shifted below him. The white had entirely become green now. For the second time he collapsed to his knees. This time it was from pure happiness.

     Standing back up the sun seemed to focus exclusively on him. His skin became flushed with color again and his listless eyes once again resembled that of a man full of life.

     With conviction, he smiled. He knew he was going to stay for a while.

© 2020 Bill O. Writes

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Added on July 24, 2014
Last Updated on January 3, 2020
Tags: Seasons, season, fall, autumn, spring, summer, winter, story


Bill O. Writes
Bill O. Writes

New Haven, CT

-Bill -30 years old. -Seemingly only able to be serious about writing As for my writing background: I have been writing since I was about 17 but had no place to share. Feel free to read wha.. more..

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