This year winter’s cold and clammy tentacles have reached farther and deeper into my bones than ever. Why, just last evening I took a brief stroll with my dog, and before I had rounded the bend at the old abandoned school house to return home, my hands were completely chilled while I hunkered down in my insufficient windbreaker.
I ask you…no I beseech you, Mother Nature, to tell me just when does summer begin this year, and can you substantiate your claim? There was a break in the cold and rain a week ago, which served to merely whet my appetite. The air was moist and warm, and even the most cautious were sporting summer attire. I slowly walked into a lake so cold I squealed in agony only to eventually submit and jump in all the way. The water felt deliciously cool and cleansing on my skin, and I giggled and splashed like I was ten all over again. Afterwards the sun baked the water out of my clothes leaving me snuggly enveloped in heat.
More. I need more.