It always happens. Every year, when the calendar turns to September it seems as though a switch is flipped. While we still have many summer-like days with hot temperatures, the light starts to fade quickly. Before you know it, it’s dark at 8 pm and not light until about the same time in the morning. It seems so quick, too quick.
And for those of us who really can’t deal with winter, it’s an impending dread. I can’t escape it. It also means my time here is quickly coming to an end. These two things are enough to make me apoplectic. Well maybe that’s a bit harsh, but not far off, plus I just like that word. It doesn’t get used nearly enough in my opinion… but I digress.
The beautiful perched village of Brantes in the distance.
The only season I absolutely adore is summer. And as the years pass, my tolerance for winter has taken a nosedive. I might be able to bear it if it was only the three months it’s supposed to be. But in certain places (I’m not naming names, but you know who you are), winter is 9-10 months of the year. That’s probably what really sent me over the deep end. When winter arrives days into autumn, or even in summer, and carries on into the end of spring, well that’s just plain bullshit.
Looking north from Mormoiron.
As the imminent doom arrives, I start to get introspective. This might be a gentler way of saying depressed, but often when one is a bit down, one can think more deeply about things. When the good times are rolling you just keep rolling along with them. And it’s great to do that when you can. But there is value in recognizing the hard parts and trying to figure out why you feel this way, and what, if anything, can be done about it. I might even say I have my best ideas when the weather is bad because I need to dream bigger when the ice-cold and dark sets in. So, I supposed there is something to be gained. Any more than three months of introspection though, is truly uncalled for!
