This seasonal move inwards, enforced by cozy fires, warm beds and the promise of an even slower pace of life, turns out not to be very complicated physically due to comfort offered, but certainly causes some exasperating spiritual drawbacks too, like the renewed scrutinizing inspection of overdue maintenance, from small but annoying flaws to a lorry loads worth of clutter to structural improvements requiring serious money and effort therefore previously postponed but now suddenly and swiftly becoming overwhelmingly urgent.
My flesh and bones are definitely geared up for the soothing silence this downfall imposes, the scarcity of colorful natural details that had me absorbed all summer, scrupulously deciphering its messages and meanings, but my mind clearly isn’t, or my eyes aren’t, I should say, for they are the factual evildoers bringing about this turmoil of being far too obsessively focused on observation, I’m well aware.
This compulsion could very well be a remnant of growing up with a blind grandfather, coercing me to count my visual blessings from a very young age, but is more likely related to the aggravating diagnosis given to me years ago of both open- and closed-angled glaucoma, painting a straight path towards blindness if left unattended, making this Silent Thief of Sight state enemy number one under my reign.
Laser treatment and the daily use of eye drops have somewhat calmed the initial consternation this discovery brought about, but knowing the loss of vision generally occurs gradually, almost imperceptibly over a long period of time, has germinated the finitude of life’s visual feast in my mind.
It’s a legitimate avidity therefore, my hunger for perceivable beauty and its constant affirmation, almost creating a tunnel vision not unlike the actual disease eventually might, as to be prepared for the worst, I’m dedicated to never let happen anyway.
When it’s as gloomy outside as it is today but even more so inside, I’d rather broaden my outlook and find solace and alleviation in the denial of the inevitable, powerfully displayed by my favorite passion flowers, Snow Queen and Calypso, still blooming as if nothing is wrong. Nothing really is.
Colorful Natural Details That Had Me Absorbed All Summer
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