These past several days the autumn season has fallen upon us (tacky and expected pun intended), much to my dissatisfaction. The sun is obscured mostly - if not completely - by clouds. The winds come from the North. And the temperature doesn't even breach fifty degrees. In short: it isn't at all pleasant and I don't like it one bit. I am not ready for Fall, and I'm certainly not ready for winter.
I've never really liked winter. The autumn I have in the past enjoyed because of the beauty of the changing colors, yet even this beauty never quite made up for the impending doom. This year I seem to have not just a dislike of winter, but a loathing of the cold season of death.
My gloves have been out and in use for some weeks now. A hat of some kind is most always with me now. I took out my scarf this morning. My wool overcoat - which the high school kids seem to like as much as the cape - is also in use (you can't wear the cape everywhere).
Winter is, I think, a direct result of the first Fall, that of Adam and Eve, and a season that I would not miss if it were never to occur again (theological discussions may follow in the com box). Some say the change of seasons is a good thing; I respectfully disagree.
Late this morning before I left for the high school I happened to catch CNN's weather ticker and saw, in the middle of the screen, the forecast for Honolulu, almost as though to beckon me:
High: 81I had one thought: Why am I here and when can I leave?
Low: 74
Partly or mostly sunny
Now, with these thoughts in my head and the grey bleakness of the autumn clouds overhead, I am to a volleyball match in Casey, Illinois. Our girls have been playing well and I'm off to cheer them on.
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