Snow blindness

Today I encountered fear, but in a way that I have never seen - or felt - before. I, myself, have felt fear. Fear of the unknown was a bundle of anxiety when we started out this trip. It changed to all out, white knuckle, can't breathe, heart pounding in my ears, adrenaline rushing when Toad and Griff left. I couldn't sleep, but now I do - simply out of exhaustion. I couldn't think, but I do now - succumbing into this rationalization and praying that whatever comes might be swift and as pain free as possible. Fear is my bedfellow now - as Uncle used to say. A strange bedfellow. But this was different, because it was fear of...me.

The sunrise had been breathtaking, spilling crimson and blood orange droplets to the pristine ground covering. Pinks and blushes smoothed over the gently rolling land as if the colors mixed and seeped through the snowy mantle. The air was so clean... a very apt description and combined with crisp... is really the best way to describe it. I could see forever. I could hear everything, though there was little to hear. I imagined that if a bit of dry grass was blown a pasang away I could have heard the skitter and scritch of the pointy blade. The solitude was humbling, surreal, and terrifying in a way. It made me almost giddy, and a bit daring as well. I would take my first real bath since leaving home. Somewhere, I imagine, someone sighed in relief.

Buckets left pathways of scooped out snow radiating in crazy lines from the tipsy turvy wagon. It wasn't easy, for the layer of frozen water wasn't that thick, but I had time. Plenty of it, in fact. A well stocked barrel was emptied of its contents and rolled drunkenly to rest beside my small fire pit. It would hold the warmed melted moisture and make my bath more of a luxury than a torture. Standard issue soap would do the dirty work, but I swore that the next bath would be with the sweetly scented chunks I had packed away. I can honestly say that if you weren't alert, aware, and awake - plains bathing will certainly cure that.

Just as I was wrapping the heavy fur coat I wore around my shoulders, shivering still into the leather and pelt, I heard something. Not the scratch of grass or sound of animal, but a grumbling against the crunchy snow.. It took some time to find the specks in the distance, shielding my eyes against the brilliance of light against white and sparkle. But there it was, off to my left, and more significant than just a mere dark dot. I can not describe how my heart started racing and legs felt at first rubbery but then seemed made of super human strength. I ran, hard and fast at take off, and never slowed. I even called - though I knew I was still such a far distance away. My voice sounded so thin and meager against the vastness of the prairie sky. It would take some time to reach them, and I wasn't even certain of what direction my specks were moving. Not at first. So I picked a spot and raced for it, glancing aside now and again hoping our destinations were converging.

When the other noises became louder, loud enough to be heard just a a bit above the pounding of my booted feet and the drumming of my heart, I slowed. I had been waving, but my arms dropped slowly to my side, like a phoenix folding its wings. I stared in dismay, not quite sure to believe what my sight was telling me. Two wagons or carts, several riders, and each being urged faster and faster - away from me.

Did they think I was some kind of apparition? Did they think they were seeing a ghost? A wild beast? A savage come to kill their men and steal their women? Me...a wild girl with wet hair flowing in frozen disarray around small shoulders. Me. Something to be afraid of.

I sat for a long time in the wetness of melting snow, gushing mud, slumbering grass. I am better now, but then...I was disheartened - and very lost.