Tracks in the snow

I’ve been spending a lot of time travelling around my memories. They flood over me whether I want to remember or not. Memories of cold wet socks, hot chocolate, bags of mixed fruit, and Christmas music. I remember going out in a field and trying to help my dad cut down a Christmas tree. My youngest brother wasn’t born yet. I remember coming home and feeling a little dead inside. Here it was almost Christmas, and I just felt sad and empty. The thing is I still didn’t understand my emotions let alone the confusion of being an empath. I helped decorate the tree in our little mobile home. I remember the only comfort I found was curling up under the tree and feeling calm. The smell of pine sap was potent. I would talk with what I saw as people in the wall. Or walls were the wood paneling that was everywhere in the 70’s. I remember all of a sudden seeing a memory of a young family. Living in a small log cabin. Mother and child bundled up by the fire while the father was out gathering more wood. He had been out hunting. He had a couple rabbits he caught hanging off a branch of a tree by the small cabin. They felt cold and hungry. After the last armful of wood was brought in, he grabbed the rabbits and finished cleaning them. He hands them to the woman and goes back outside. He had a concern over a noise in the trees. When he goes out he sees blood in the snow underneath the trees he heard the noise. There’s nothing he can see for tracks other than rabbit tracks that suddenly stop where the blood was. He looks up to find a large owl in the tree. The owl just watches him. He feels fear watching the bird. He hurried back to the cabin, to warm up. He tells his wife about the strange large bird he saw in the trees. He explains he never saw anything like it. It was huge and he said it made him feel like death was watching.

I’m awakened by my mother who tells me to go to bed. It was all a dream. I remember looking out my window at the snow on the ground. The yard seems bright between the moon and the porch light reflecting off the snow. I tell my friends in the wall about my dream then fell asleep. The next morning I wake up feeling better. No longer feeling empty.

Then I’m back to my childhood again. This time I’m in a Christmas parade in the town of lyndhurst. I was with my Boy Scout cub pack carrying a flag. Again wet cold feet are a thing. We finish the short parade and all of a sudden we’re at the Tye family’s place. We are all sledding and playing in the snow. Going in for hot chocolate and warming up.

Next I’m 12 and smelling electric fire. I run upstairs from my basement bedroom to find everyone is still asleep. There’s no fire but it’s coming. I frantically look for where it’s coming from. I find a Christmas light short that’s melting the wires and is wrapped around a wooden Santa Claus decoration. I unplug it and take it out the front door, but enter into another memory.

What’s the next one?

Published by Snowy Owl

There was a lot more written here before. Then I saw it was irrelevant. I am just another person with an autoimmune disease and spectrum ”disorder” who is highly sensitive to their environment. I thought I would write a few things down, so here you go. Swim at your own risk!

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