Nothing about the morning goes right but the folks at my bank must be experiencing a worse day than I am, judging by the CLOSED sign on its door and the gaggle of employees in the lobby. I feel strangely cheered by this knowledge and continue to my office, where I find further comfort in a handful of smiling faces and pleasant exchanges. The box on my desk turns out to be the new pens which I’ve ordered for purposes of marketing to small shops in the area. That’s a plus but I still struggle with a lingering feeling that the day will go badly. Nothing about the weather so signifies; crisp air, pale blue sky, whispers of harmless lovely clouds. I drive downtown. I sit in court, waiting for my client, a half hour early as I promised. The judge checks with me and acknowledges that my cases appear on his later docket and I settle into a chair at counsel table, shaking my bones, stretching my neck, wondering if what I feel is the approaching gloom of winter something more sinister.
This first day of fall always is a tough one for me. It signifies short days, oncoming cold that will not end for six months, and reminds me to kick myself for not flying south permanently yet and having to face another winter that I absolutely hate. Grrr, and yes, I am complaining, but I have not and would not vow to stop. Soon I will be in that part of the year that signifies everything bad—cold, ice, snow, wind, darkness, holidays I don’t like, and a very long, long wait for next summer.
There is a positive side. Winter can be a beautiful white or crystalline wonderland and an opportunity to snuggle under soft warm covers in front of a fire with a good book. To me, occasionally being snowed-in (or iced-in, as the case may be) means being snowed-out of certain responsibilities and given a day-long “free pass” to enjoy or catch up. Although the daylight hours are fewer, I once had a friend advise me to envision the darkness as a blanket of protection over my little corner of the world. “To everything (turn, turn, turn) there is a season (turn, turn, turn) . . .” The Byrds – in the 60’s 🙂 – quoting Ecclesiastes. Anyway . . . just my thoughts.