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, not really, if you mean the cold?”

“Yes, the cold.”

“No, I like winter, except for the dark.”

“The cold makes me shiver to my bones.”

“Rug up, you will be okay.”

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

“Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”

“I guess you crank up the heat your house too.”

“If you mean that I have the heater on in the winter, then yes.”

“Do you ever feel the change in temperatures?”

“No, why would I want to?’

“Because that is the natural world, that is how the seasons of the planet are.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have to feel them.”

“So, what, 21 degrees all the time.”

“If I can manage it.”

“Never a variation on that?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“You never get to feel the glorious difference in the seasons?”

“I think the glorious difference is overrated.”

“You don’t like difference?”

“No.”

“You don’t like change?”

“No.”

“You like things to be the same?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t like variation?”

“No.”

“So, you don’t like things you can’t control?”

“I guess.”

“You don’t like feeling out of control?”

“Who does?”

“But that doesn’t usually include the weather?”

“Why not, if I can control it?”

“How is your relationship with your wife?”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“What do you think your wife would say, if I asked her?”

“I don’t know.”