Here Comes the Sun
I don’t like winter. I didn’t mind when I was a kid and snowballing was a fun thing to do, but that was when I had decent circulation and my fingers wouldn’t turn blue and drop off. I remember walking a couple of miles on the frozen canal with my mates and even playing football on its surface with a block of ice. It’s funny but winter seemed far more idyllic in my selective memory.
Now we have a day, or maybe two when it snows. There’s no crisp, white crunch under your feet sort of snow, it melts to slush almost straight away. The sky is the colour of molten lead and the dull cloud hangs so low, heavy and brooding you feel like Atlas with the weight of the world on your shoulders.
Seasonal affective disorder wasn’t talked about when I was a kid, then when it was it seemed to be something that just happened to other people. Now I feel a cloak of pessimism wrapped around me – now I’m S.A.D.
Then yesterday the sun came out. The street outside my window was suddenly bathed in a golden warmth that crept through my every fibre until it actually lifted me into another place. A place where people smile, where they walk with a jaunty stride and stand straighter. A place where people say hello to each other as they pass!
The sunlight reached into my brain which caused thoughts and ideas to well up, it found my fingers which danced across my sunlit keyboard like a newborn spring lamb dances across a meadow. Affected yet again by the weather, I am happy.
Ok so it’s not yet spring, the wind was blowing something fierce sending clouds shooting to the far horizon and making the old tree in the neighbour’s garden sway like a retired Turkish bellydancer who really should know better, emptying its branches of starlings as effectively as a peckish hawk turning up for elevenses. Yet none of that matters as the I can’t feel the cold wind sat here at my desk, but I can feel the sun on my face and I smile back with gratitude.