A rusty key,
by Leonor Henríquez

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It appears in unusual places just around this time.

It is an old, heavy and rusty key. Another “junk” that I have been collecting throughout my adventures around the world.

I wonder what mysterious castle it might have belonged to, what enigmatic doors it might have opened in the past.

This time the key decided to appear at my doorstep, now, when the universal whiteness of the Canadian winter takes over the landscape and our fragile tropical souls.

After so many years in this wonderful country I have learned to embrace the beauty of each season of the year, so I put the rusty key in my pocket and despite the -11 degrees Celsius outside, I went out for a walk.

I entered the crystallized landscape, a silent and magical world.

It seemed as if time had stopped and given me a stage to dream about.

I concluded my walk and my idealizations.

I arrived home and instinctively put the mysterious key in the lock, a little confusion, perhaps due to my frozen thoughts.

To my surprise, the lock creaked with the sound of time.

Before my eyes, a very familiar place, of course, my home, but I was greeted by corners not seen before or little traveled, spiral staircases, secret passages, treasures.

With unusual pleasure I explored these nooks of my own home.

I looked out the window and, contemplating the frozen landscape, I could feel the warmth of the nest more intensely.

Yes, that old key that appears to me at the beginning of winter is the one that opens my most hidden and introspective places.

It is winter, which invites me to reflect, to look inward.

I thanked the enigmatic key for leading me to the door of my true place, my inner refuge.

Here I will remain for the coming months, curled up in my shell, huddled within myself, next to the comfort of that burning flame that provides inexhaustible happiness.

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