Wake Me in Spring

I loved autumn when I was young. It was crisp and romantic. A person felt alive in the fall way back when. Now the season drains me. The sun sets at 4:36 PM, before which the days are chilly, grey, and usually wet with rain. It makes me want to curl into a ball and hibernate like a common hedgehog. Instead, I turn on every light in the house and try to be productive. This is futile. I alternate between forcing myself to engage in some menial but worthwhile task, like cleaning or paying bills, and dozing off on the sofa, window shopping for cameras and lenses I'll never buy, or playing correspondence chess online. I'd prefer to engage in more creative pursuits with my spare time, such as painting, photography, or even writing here in this blog. I have shelves filled with books I'd very much like to read. There are nearly a dozen online courses and training videos idling partially watched in my queue. Walk a few blocks in any direction from here and you'll find numerous coffee shops and bars filled with folk fending off the night with overpriced drinks and bad conversation. They may as well all be Pluto, separated as they are from me by a vast expanse of night. The lullaby is irresistible.