Anybody else feel like they are not the same person all the time? How to describe what I mean? Two words. Friday, Monday. But here’s another way. I lived a long time in Buffalo NY, where winter and summer are very, very different things. In winter, I would occasionally see a summer garden shovel in the garage, and the idea of using such a thing, for such a purpose, seemed, well, just baffling. Same thing when spotting a snow shovel in July. Just two different worlds. Two different states of being. Two different me’s. Years of excessive attention to how I felt different in summer and winter finally clued me in to the fact that it was the light, not the temperature that was the crucial variable. So WHO CARES?
Well, me! Look, if I’m going to give you odd, compromising glimpses into my tortured but colorful soul, you need to sit still for some of the tedious particulars. Anyway, I have some unasked-for advice for those of you squirming around waiting for better weather. Stop focusing on your cabin fever and “move to the light” as they say when you’re dying. February may be cold, but the quality of light is simply altogether different than November and December. It is vivid, and strong. Dare I say sporadically glorious? I daresay!
Here’s little treat I’ve placed in your psychological treat bag! Look at mid-day shadows on the February ground. So sharp! So strong! This is a special season. Don’t let it go by unappreciated. Summer in winter, I shall call it. And so may you!