(In honor of the first day of Autumn. ~GHC)
West Virginia roads suggest dancing.
There is an innate rhythm to the undulations formed by lanes carved
to shadow waterways that gently curve down the mountains. A sensuous
sway of Nature's hips; she is a Mountain Woman making her way down
the path with an apron full of walnuts in Autumn.~~GHC
Nature, Grace, Redemption
Each morning, Sun's light darts through
thick foliage, seeking his mountain woman. He issues a clarion call
to awaken and join him in the forest. He watches over her throughout
the day even when she feels alone. She is courted by both Sun and
Wind. The jealous suitors vie for her affection in an eternal battle.
Sun soothes her spirit, warms her body,
lights her way in the gloom. Sun breaks the dark grasp of Winter,
heralds the promise of Spring. Sun beats her in Summer, smothers her
with his passion, lashes her with his harsh rays. His heat
coaxes her musky essence; it drifts on the breeze. Mountain Woman
lies panting and sweating in a verdant valley, drained and spent when
he leaves her. She cries out from her spirit to Wind to come and
bring relief.
Rivulets of perspiration trace the
curves of her countenance and she dreams of Wind's sweet touch.
Sensing her scent in the zephyr, Wind joins Mountain Woman. He
whispers against her cheek, smoothes her hair. He strokes her
everywhere at once. The hairs on her arms stand up as he wraps around
and over and under her, finding his way into tiny crevices that Sun
never discovers. Mountain Woman shivers from the sensation. He
brushes her nipples, causing them to reach for his touch. He obliges.
But Wind is as cruel a lover as Sun. In
Winter, he causes her hair to lash her face. He chaps her skin,
chills her to the bone. In Winter, she sometimes weeps for Sun,
wondering if he will ever return. Wind leaves as suddenly as he
arrives, without warning every time. He is capricious, unlike
faithful Sun who soars across the sky each morning and stays until
nightfall when he settles into the trees like a bird returning to its
nest.
Mountain Woman has a third lover:
Night. Night too is faithful but undemanding. She waits until Sun
leaves, gracious and patient for her turn. Her gentle fingers soothe
Mountain Woman's tired spirit and restore her soul. She pulls
Mountain Woman to her bosom, murmurs into her ear to rest, sleep,
renew, and refresh.
Sometimes Wind comes while Mountain
Woman lies within Night's arms. He rails against the walls, his
jealousy evident. He howls outside her window, impotent and incapable
of forcing her to unlatch her door and allow him in. He warns of
Night's deceit.
Glittering diamonds emphasize Night's
dark beauty. She offers gifts to Mountain Woman: the Moon and Stars.
Night's jewels are sempiternal but cold and distant. They sparkle
with false brilliance. Their light is mere reflection; their lives
forfeit long ago. Like Mountain Woman, they cannot be possessed.
Mountain Woman wakens and makes her way
down the hillside to the River. River is her true Love. River fills
her every crevice, gentle and insistent, patient, persistent.
Thorough. River caresses and treasures everything Mountain Woman
offers and nothing more. If she deigns to only dip a dainty foot in,
River caresses it, worships it. When Mountain Woman chooses to
disrobe away from the prying eyes of Sun, Wind, or Night, and offers
herself entirely into River's embrace, River welcomes her. River
always accepts, never judges. River extends an invitation but never
presses. Steady yet never stagnant, faithful yet not fawning, loving
without lusting, River is the keeper of Mountain Woman's heart.
