It’s the time of year here when some things just up and die.
Oh, not me. I’m a man of the seasons. And though I slightly prefer the scorching luminance of summer, all of the cooling seduction of the fall and the darkening detraction of the winter and the flower-floating forgiveness of the spring are never-ever begrudged by me. In fact, I’ve never really met anyone else quite like myself that loves all the seasons so participatingly (outdoors running, lounging, blogging all year long),
so intractably (never looking back—only the faerie death beckons such and she I ignore),
and so mystically (the seasons are a construct of man and merely a mental fuzz—climates live and grow with the likes of us. If you truly love life, you’ll embrace all the weather.).
Recent Comments