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“Winter’s coming!” the book I’m reading keeps warning. It makes me panic for a split second, it makes my brain decide what to do with this alarming information I’m currently receiving– for a split second– and then I remember and respond back “No it’s not you silly book”. But yesterday I looked out the window and saw that indeed it is winter, or at least it looked like it for the first few hours of my day. Big chunky snowflakes collapsed on our back yard. The brown lawn was now completely painted white, the skies were grey and promising more to come.

{We are talking weather and seasons if you haven’t noticed already. Because that’s where my brain is at right now. Unfortunately my nose and stuffy head are talking about something completely different, and my bedside table is yelling at me to clear out my pyramid of used tissues. I’m listening, it’s my nose that needs the yelling. I want to remind my bedside table.}

But while I was having lunch, the sun peaked through our slotted shades and caught my eyes. White glare was all I could make out. So I did the unthinkable and twisted the slots in the shades shut. “If you don’t like the weather wait an hour” I reminded myself. But I’m liking the weather, all of it this season.

Our winter came, and is currently breathing it’s final breaths. Our winter was a kind old man this season, he gave us our snow, he brought out our down covers and winter gear, and he even froze our lakes. But he did it slowly with a pace befitting an old man whose had a long life of hard work. Now he’s willing to do the work with the leisure of sipping tea, and napping in between. The snow all melted within an hour, the sun came out bright and warm and stayed until it disappeared behind the horizon, but the dark skies loomed in the distance promising us maybe yet another winter storm. And so we wait.

But you know what?

Spring is coming!



About Muslim Hippie

Hello and welcome, you have landed yourself on this virtual space designed by your humble servant to try and escape life's unpleasantness through: selective memory musings, snippets of the world that surrounds me, and occasional insights when the light blub in this strange brain of mine flickers. No real names are displayed I'm afraid, why bother?

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