Life’s Seasons Sarah Edwards, Year 12 Winter: 16th July The icy hands of frost eagerly stretch their fingers along the frame of the bus window. The rocky motion of the vehicle gently sways each passenger side to side, as the 320 route gradually sulks its way along the slippery, frozen roads to the bustling city. A tired young woman flicks laboriously through the pages of a textbook. The brittle joints in her frozen, fragile fingers work strenuously to follow the rows of information. Her glassy eyes, sitting softly on dark, shadowed beds, glance occasionally through the fogged window checking for the nearest stop to the university. The tired spheres, longing for the novelty of rest and creativity, contrast a brilliant blue against her frail, grey-tinged face as it clings tightly to the bony structure beneath. Across the row, a skinny child rests his head against the icy window. A flow of tears runs from his watering, lonely eyes, and down his scratched cheeks. A torn school bag, spilling ripped papers and ruined school texts, barricades him into the seat, shielding him from the observation of the other passengers. His pale face reflects the recollections haunting the conscience beneath: the towering, jealousyfuelled figures of intimidation, aggression, and hatred. The child’s frosty heart, still pounding heavily from the stress of his intimidators, longs only for the warmth of belonging and love.
Two rows behind the fearful child sit a couple hand-inhand. Their tired faces are gracefully weathered from memories and experiences of long, meaningful lives. The woman rests her frail head on the shoulder of her beloved, his fingers gently warming her fragile, fatiguing hands. Their soft breath condenses in the air before them. His eyes settle lovingly, but fearfully on her lethargic figure, treasuring this precious gift of time with those he loves. Spring: 16th October The soft, spring sunshine gently thaws the foggy windows of the bus. It burrows its path through the blossomcovered suburban trees. A cool morning breeze persuades each passenger to pull their jackets close. The woman eagerly tightens the buttons on her crisp, new suit. Her clear blue eyes are brimming with anticipation and hope as she approaches a new chapter of her life. Soft, warm fingers now clasp a new briefcase as her attention shifts to the brilliantly clear sky. With the relief granted by this new opportunity, she is able to treasure the beauty in the outside world. Her rosy cheeks reflect the brilliant sun rising and illuminating the city as the new day begins. The once empty seat that loomed beside the cowering child is now filled with an animated boy laughing in unison with him, his tears replaced by tears of joy. Cruel teasers are a distant memory traded for the open pleasure of the company of a new friend. The scratches, once bright crimson brands etched into the child’s cheek, now faded
to fine marks, barely noticeable in the shadow of the boy’s brilliant smile. The school bag, displaying neatly stitched patch marks where a tear once was, now rests gently at his feet, opening him up to the joys of life. His heart warmed with the joy of being accepted and loved. The elderly man sits alone, two rows behind the child. The empty seat next to him still filled with the shadow of his lost treasure. His eyes, directed at the gentle sunrise reflected in the now clear windows of the bus, not only long for the presence of this lost loved one, but contently cherish the memories of this gift he was given. A single tear runs down his cheek and lands softly on his hands, woven gently into each other, as his chin lifts gently higher with the rising sun.