My least favorite season is winter. Winter in Ohio. Winter in Cincinnati. If the days and months were filled with snow (and occasional sun), I’d sense a glimpse of relief. Endless days of cold, darkened sky gray wears upon me like a burden. With snow there is brightness, and silent comfort; even amongst the umbrella of clouds. I feel fatigue. Exhaustion. Not sadness. Not depression. Just heavy. Heavy eyes. Heavy mind.
There is snow now and it’s beautiful — watching the kids lumber and fall, spin and turn pink in the cheeks. It’ll melt away soon. Turn to mud. The gray and rain will be back.
I’m tired of this design. I will improve soon. Same circus feel, new circus fun.
I want to write again. Write more. Finish the stories I’ve been wishing to tell. I need to read more before I can write well.
Time to enjoy the lazy Saturday.