We’re a week away from the official start of autumn, but already I feel it in my bones. Today exacerbated that feeling with its continually falling rain and dreary skies. We need the rain; rather, farmers and flowers need it. I don’t. But I accept it for those whose lives (flowers) and livelihoods (farmers) depend on it.
As for the dreary skies, they not only annoy but also depress me. We have so many more grey days to look forward to in the coming months, because that’s what it’s like around here come the end of the year. I’m already gritting my teeth at the prospect. Which is why their early arrival makes me mad.
Can’t we enjoy sunshine even with later sunrises and earlier sunsets? Do shortened days have to mean less sunshine? It seems they do.
So what am I doing on this hibernating kind of day? I’m baking apples, although I just realized there is no ice cream to spread on their soft, hot sweetness. I’m playing piano, although it’s gloomy in the piano room because there are windows in three sides that look out on the grey sky. I’m also reading the Sunday papers, which are becoming thinner and thinner with each passing season. And I’m trying not to curmudge.
I think I haven’t succeeded in the curmudging arena. In fact, this entire blog seems to be a curmudge. Which probably makes me a first class curmudgeon.
Leave a Reply