There’s all kinds of thin lines swirling, trying to pinpoint our current moods by simply relating everything to the terrible weather we’ve been having and the barriers it created to our wonted dose of beauty, out there but dripping, out there but hidden, out there but for who if not for us?
Without an overdose of drama, given my widely known aversion to it, I guess the aggravation of the notorious leakage in our roof presumably caused by a crumbling chimney now suddenly requiring additional emergency measures, adds to this spiral too without even pushing us over the edge, even though that jiffy is approaching, godspeed.
The unusualness of this winter is memorable for sure, a barrel full of contradictions, teaching us a lesson we’re not sure we want to embrace anyway, but whilst enduring doesn’t feel like a heavy burden at all, in comparison. There’s many things I would have done differently in hindsight, oh that enticing hibernation with its blissful ignorance incessantly luring, but at the same time the jury is still out on what it all means.
Melancholia, a call to sadness forever tainted by that movie I’m still not sure whether to fan a flame for or religiously burn its premise, has moved into the Berry weeks ago, first flying under the radar but kind of obviously imposing itself as the new kid on the block, proven to be not so easy to shed, with its tentacles in all aspects of our daily life:
“It’s raining today, are we going to puppy class?”
“Yes, let’s press on and be brave”.
“Oh but it’s cancelled, or so they say”.
These endless drops make us long for the frost that was amongst us last week and apparently will return in the next one, no doubt changing our outlook again into something different, with any luck. And whilst at it, can someone do something about those winds?
Turn to Google for advice and you will be told it can be difficult to treat, but recovery is possible: recall Alice, when she was just small and remember what the dormouse said. Cheering for the cold to expel the wet is like tempting all kinds of devils, I know, but we still be living the fairytale anyway. Lucky us.