Snow Being

It's one of those odd days today.  I'm itchy in my skin.  Not jumpy, just unable to settle anywhere and concentrate on something.  Anything.  It may be because I have a "to do list" a mile long which basically entails a LOT of thoughtful paperwork without quick resolution.  Can't really say I'm restless, it's just an under-the-skin itchyness running through my nerve endings.  Maybe I am.  Completing the physical tasks I had to do just isn't doing the trick either.  Oy.  So, short of pounding on my standing bag to exhaustion, and disrupting the entire end of my building (not to mention setting back my recovery from my carpal tunnel surgery), I took my twitchy self to a nearby beach for a walk. 

It ended up being more of a non-walk.  It was too bloody cold out in the wind along the water.  The sun had long gone with the clouds building up for another weather-maker tonight and tomorrow.  All the color has been leached out of the landscape.  Everything appears lifeless.  Even the evergreens'  green-ness was lackluster.  Out beyond the seawall, sandwiched between grey water and grey sky, a fishing boat silently moved in large slow circles.  There were no other souls out.  The wind was cruel.  It was raw and biting, cutting away at any exposed surfaces.  My scarf, hat and gloves really didn't seem to make much of a difference at all.  Bitter, bitter air. 

There is still a lot of snow pack around, and near the end of one walkway, there was a drift caught up against the boulders at the turn.  I discovered the snow was perfect for snowball making, or snowman making, for that matter.  So I grabbed huge handfulls and made meself a snowball which then went arcing out over the water only to smash on that steely greyness.  Nope.  Didn't satisfy.  Then, looking at a flat-topped boulder beside me, I wondered what a snowball would look like on there.  Lonely.  So I made another, and another wondering where I was going with this.  They looked kind of cool on the boulder, but were still just snowballs on a rock.  Next, I piled four on top of each other straight up - snow is a cool playdoh when it's the right temperature.  Good start, but still lonely.   Next, three up on each side - the left leaning a bit drunkenly.  I liked it.  Still boring, though.  Then, I curved the right and left columns into the body of the four snow balls, and they ended up looking like long arms reaching down to the rock.  Much better.

There were no longer snowballs on a boulder.  Instead, the snowballs had become this long-armed,  enigmatic being looking out over the water.  It is about a foot and half feet high - brilliantly white against all the greyness surrounding it, and strangely shaped.  The figure looked almost like a children's toy, but all in snow.  It looks wonderfully out-of-place and rather strange.  Oh sure, it will probably wash away in the rain tomorrow.  Or someone will knock it down.  But just for now, or a little while though, my snow being will be a visual puzzle for anyone who walks along the same path.  "Who made that?  Why???" 

As I walked back to my car, I kept turning around to check on its visability.    My snow being stood out for its oddness alone.  It is not expected.  I am delighted with it.  Makes me wonder, too, if any long ago ancient with a sense of mischief ever created a stone figure simply for fun - only to befuddle and confuse our current day archeologists trying to find meaning in it.   The twitchyness is still here within me, but I feel a bit better for making my mark with the snow being, no matter how transient.