Back for another
nival homecoming.
Fluttering flurries
obscuring sunset,
muting day to night,
ground mounding, rounding
with fresh fallen snow.
The sound of no sound,
snowflakes silencing,
softening contours,
and settling scores.
Slumber’s siren song
swaddled in silver,
swirling and whirling,
mesmerizing me,
mesmerizing us
until tomorrow.
Nival?!?!
There aren’t too many opportunities to nudge “nival” into conversation even in this northern wonderland. But as a language romantic often employing Spanish for my day-to-day communication, the word “nieve” kept burbling to the surface. In English, naval is about as close as we get, so, it was simply irresistible. Or perhaps the snowy sirens are to blame.
That said, it’s worth noting that naval is more metaphorically than literally appropriate in this context. Despite the fact that midwinter — and, yes, late February is still midwinter along the Adiron