Winter

I don't know why, but the winter does me in. Everything shrinks, I mean everything, the days, the light, my will to live, everything. I think it has something to do with the dark, actually, too many bad mushroom impersonations. Ha ha! It just makes me want to do like a bear and hibernate, slip away to somewhere warm and comfortable and quiet. (I should buy some salmon)

Shorter days, shorter life, or, at least, less will to live, less inclined to move.

Open fires. Blankets on the couch. Big woolly socks. Mugs of chocolate. Wrapped up for the night. Eating what you like. Fuck it, we won’t be in skimpy clothes for 6 months.

Of course, it makes Spring glorious, like a perpetual new day and something to look forward to.

The sun comes out again and we all cheer! Cheer up.

We pull on those little shorts and we begin to run, run off the stodginess of our winter respite? Fight? Plight? Uptight? Of course, it makes no sense as running in little shorts in Winter is just the way to run for life. 

Of course, we go shirtless as the days warm up. When the buds are on the trees. And the sky is blue for everyone to see.

Winter is melancholy. Winter is quiet. Slow. Down tools and go home. Inside, out of view. Home for the months it takes for light to seep back into our worlds.

Head lights on early. Street lights burning bright. All that dark outside in the street, foggy windows you have to wipe away. Breath out visibly in front of you early in the day. Cold hands and cold feet that never seem to go away.

“Don’t you hate winter?”

“No, I love it, except for the dark.”

“It makes me cold to the bones.”

“Rug up, you will be okay.”

“It is Siberia, the cold feeling never goes away.”