In October everyone is excited to pull out the jackets and
hoodies. They start talking about
bonfires and Halloween. Then it’s the
holiday season with turkey and a red suited fat man. Everyone wants a white Christmas. They complain if there isn’t snow. They love the winter and all it brings. The snowmen, and the ice skating, the snow ball fights and the
angels. The warm toasty fires and
nights spent at home celebrating with family.
Not me. I hate
winter. I don’t say that lightly. I Hate winter, which a capital H!
I see the leaves on the trees begin to change and I get
sad. I mean actually sad, on the
inside. Then they fall to the ground in
heaps and piles, which I have to rake and bag and cart away by the truck
load. The garden freezes over and the
sweet potatoes are dug up. That is the
last of the fresh produce I will get for months and months. The grass and then the windows on the car
begin to frost over in the mornings, which means I will have to go out to start
it early to warm up. The snow and the ice arrive with a vengeance in Ohio and
it stays and stays.
The days are dark and grey.
The nights are blustery and cold.
The wind is brutal. It weasels
its way under coats and sweaters and bites at the skin. Eyes water and noses run and the winter is
still ever present. It’s January and the
snow comes in droves of white. Ice
crusts over everything including power lines and walkways. I have been in boots for months. I miss my pretty peep-toe heels, my wedges
and my espadrilles, even my flip-flops. Everything is dead, brown and
grey.
February has arrived and the ice has taken me as a casualty
time and time again as I slip, slide, and fall my way through the days and days
of winter. My skin is itchy and dry no
matter how much moisture I rub into it.
Snow comes again and again and again. It’s pushed into piles as high as the house and some higher than
that. Salt granules find there way
inside my shoes and my car and my home.
Everywhere I turn I find the sharp little crystals from hell as they
stab into my cold feet and toes.
March is almost here.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but I don’t see it yet. I’m melancholy today with the cold and the
winter that is never going to let go of us.
I need the warmth of the sun. I
miss it terribly.
Come on spring, where are you?
I feel exactly the same way. :( That was beautifully written, though!
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