Meeting Point

Sometimes it’s too cold to wait.

My teeth are shivering like a café boiling on low fire. I couldn’t imagine that cold would be cold as this. I can’t even feel my gloves, my palms feel like naked. Air comes in scratching my nose, by carrying it’s sharpness through my lungs. In this frozen time; I even miss the falling leaves of autumn, at least there would be some movement. Waiting makes feel lonelier than being alone.

My eyes are getting wet, not because of crying, it’s because of cold. At the nook side of my eyelids where my lashes met, the tears that can’t wipe get solid. Does anyone get hurt without any reason? See, I’m breaking and shedding. My heart moves by cracking my ribs. I can’t wait any more.

Due to cold weather, the air is too stiff to create a breeze and I’m trying to open a way through it for my body. Is it really me who is moving these stone like feet? No snow, no ice, just cold… Such a cold that gives pain to all of my joints’ existence. While walking, like striding on pins, my toes are becoming alive with griping pain. This can’t be called walking. I’m dragging myself before I become a statute. My heart beats so fast so it can fly without wings if I release it.

I relieved a bit when I came home that made of balloons which aren’t able to fly. When I look back, it’s getting darker in the world. There is no night, no day in this corner of time. Colourless sky hanging above and it’s just getting darker and lighter since the clouds left us. I can’t be mad at them. I hope, he won’t be angry with me too, because I couldn’t wait.

There is an oak tree in the middle of my home it is out of leaves now. Only its’ acorns left as food for me. It is tasteless to eat but helps to survive. I’m getting warm with the heat of the fountain flowing from the cavity of oak. There is a turtle at the corner who has been sleeping for a while, its’ breathe accompanies me in my dreams. Every time I wake up, I count the blue balloons on my ceiling. I drew smiling faces each of them, so they can also count me.

I pull the hanging string on my thumb to unstitch my gloves. My released hands knit a shawl with that rope as soon as possible, because I heard the sneeze of the winter hare’s. At the top of the oak, above the balloons, I am watching their approach. Their fur is as frozen as the air, as dark as the sky so it is hard to see them. My only chance is their pink twinkling noses, cause they are sneezing.

I can manage to wrap one of theirs tail with my shawl. Suddenly the hare bounces to run away. But not that easy! Me, my oak and my balloons have been training for this moment for a long while. With the bounce, my balloon home and all the things inside it are lifting up. It is a luck that the turtle doesn’t wake with this move. We all bounded with the hare till it stops. By that time I am out of the balloon home frozen, but still holding the shawl.

We don’t need to stick with the hare till it stops. Finding these beautiful daisies are enough for us. The winter hare vanishes into thin air as soon as our bound is cut. Here; I can wait till the oak sprouts and the turtle wakes. And when martins get ready for a journey, I can send him a message with them that tells our meeting point has changed.

He doesn’t need to wait for hares to come to meet me. He carries his home in a basket what is a part of his tricycle. An owl accompanies him. It stands on his handlebar with glittering eyes. So he can ride in dark. Still, cold is overwhelming for him to ride.

Hours after I arrived I hear a pair of wings then a noise “ uuu wuu “. I know whose sound is this and rush out of my home. I see his owl. At the same time our eyes meet it flies again. I watch the owl till it disappears. Knowing that he will learn our new meeting point I sleep deeply and dream of tricycles.


Here you can read more stories about cold: How I became famous by cycling in the snow, Ice and Gloves