It’s not as dire as the situation that quote refers to, but it reflects my state of mind.
There’s often a nasty point at the start of winter, everywhere I’ve wintered where it’s wintery, when the first snow has left and you have cold, mud, slimy dead leaves and it just looks dirty. (Halloween, most years….)
That’s the last several months here in SeaTacOlyMeReNewcasTukwila. Cold without freezing enough to solidify the mud, soggy teeth sinking straight through your coat, moldy, with some glorious foggy mornings that tease you with the glowing promise of snow, occasional warm afternoons that warm the plants just enough to let the rot set in even better….
I’m not a fan of cold. Last Christmas, in SoCal, was nice. I miss Japan. (Yes, that well-known tropical area of Sasebo. Meh, there were flowers during Christmas, and they weren’t soggy. Ditto for China Lake.) Growing up, Christmases when it was snowing were good and bad, practically speaking– snow makes it a bit warmer, it’s not that cold if it’s snowing, it’s not generally humid enough to bite straight through your coat, but heavy snow means that the animals might need you, etc.
I keep trying to get into the Christmas spirit and failing. Music just doesn’t stick, did the Christmas cards and it just all seemed… alien. Just doesn’t fit.
For once, I am actually dreaming of a white Christmas.
Talk about a petty funk.