Monday, November 9, 2015

winter dreaming

There is fresh blueberry jam in the fridge. A neighbor made it. Locally jarred sweet pickles, her recipe. Someone complains of the clouds and the third weekend in a row of missing light. She doesn't deal well with this weather, but I tell her she seems fine to me. I doubt that makes anyone better. Me telling them they are.

"Think of Perdido in the spring and summer. The beach. Spending a day in the sand."

She smiles.

"Plus, you can't have the whole year. Some of us love the long nights and the cold air and the quiet that comes with it."

"Not me."

Today I am grateful for the seasons.

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