folded-umbrellaThrough the window I see nothing, darkness, black. It’s six in the evening and the day’s as gloomy as midnight sky.  Daylight savings time. What’s the point? The days get shorter, the hours of light rationed. Sweaters, long underwear and fleece migrate to the center of the closet, while summer disappears into memory.

I do not like this time of year. The months between December and May could be permanently erased from my seasonal calendar without a moment of regret. What freedom there would be in ridding myself of holidays, winter viruses and persisting rain. Winter months sit on my head like a fat woman in black pants. My spirit longs to be elsewhere but emotional roots, habit, endurance and inertia keep me here. Not a list I am proud of. 

Maybe tomorrow  I will wake with a new resolve, a resolve that allows change. Maybe I’ll become a person who likes airplane travel and has an overflowing bank account. Perhaps a villa in a foreign country and oh dear, dare I dream? Sunshine to warm my bones, azure waters and a big open bed. Or maybe not.

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