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Musings on this dark, early November Monday evening….
The change of seasons have a way of slap shocking me into the reality of time’s passage. Nothing else seems to have the effect of making me realize the years are spinning by faster and faster.
And a shock this day that went awry also was. It was 4 before we ate lunch and then we hurried out to take our walk but too late to go bathe in forest solace lest we walk among trees barely lit by a darkening sky. This time each year, my mind zips back to 1982, my first winter on central time. How cruel it was to travel the interstate home at 4:30 in the dark. How harsh the early end of daylight still seems all these years later.
Tonight, I pushed ahead, masked up, and ran a few errands, a quick return, a Goodwill drop off, and to the liquor store to purchase fuel for the coming long election night. As we closed the gate and made out way back into our warm home, I thought: Oh, what will I do this cold, long night? And, oh…There’s going to be a lot of cold, long nights. Longer and colder now with the approaching, predicted more forceful waves of the pandemic. Darn.
As I closed the back door, I took a deep breath, steeled and resigned myself once again, knowing that this is tough. But I’m tough. We are tough. And we’ll get through this night. We’ll get through tomorrow night. We’ll get through this month. The rest of this damnable year and eventually this damned pandemic.
