August, and the snow has just melted by Julia Johanne Tolo
Oslo loves to listen. Far up north, further than most people would venture and have ventured over centuries, it is a cold dark place waiting for the light. Norway does not celebrate thanksgiving. That is an American thing. Subways in the city of New York know all about thanksgiving the way it is for friends and family. Holidays in America are to acknowledge the vast space that the country takes up how massive it actually is and how long it goes on for, almost without end. Love ties it together just like it ties Norway together the ties are simply different, transportation versus history, sunlit with darkness.
A funeral does both. There is a celebration at a funeral the way a person is remembered in the best way possible. When a person passes away all the awfulness they have done is forgotten. Replacing that is the kindness, the gentle spirit the person possessed. Complicated feelings rise up in a person upon the beginning of a funeral. Such conflicts involve plenty of people, how life ended up that way and that for any wrongs done by the person there is no forgiveness. It is impossible to do. Nervous energy is released throughout a funeral with coughing the way a person has so much to say but knows they need to say all the right things the appropriate things.
Seasons change slowly representing the balance of life and death. Winter represents the loss and spring is the way of renewal. By the time of summer the idea of life is overwhelming the beauty it brings radiates throughout the world, its heat permeating everything trying to dominate with its vast overreach. Every season has a tendency to do this, the way that a person can see the same level of play over and over again until it doesn’t matter where they are living. No matter where they live the outcome is the same.
Promises break all the time they are fragile things and must be handled carefully. Corrections are given out to those who mishandle promises and mispronunciations. Depending on where a person resides Houston can be a totally different word meaning a different thing. Memories too can fail to stick thus people remember the same event differently, no matter the care the memory simply will not be there. Reflection of all that has happened and will happen occurs on the rooftops, watching people’s antennas ease the pain that their lives have. So much pain can be in the world so much that only fiction is comforting. Only pigeons appreciate a perfectly sunny day they require no fiction they know what is real.