We're three weeks into January now, so if there's a time to start griping about the winter weather, this is it. (If you haven't already.)
So allow me to throw my own voice into the cacophony. The weather lately has been rotten. Cold. Windy. Generally not fun. It would be one thing if it was just consistently cold. But what makes matters worse is that we've been on this weather roller coaster. Temperatures will creep up toward 50 one day, only to crash down into the teens a day or so later. Monday, it was in the 50s. Tuesday, it barely got above freezing. Single digits are possible before the week is up.
Basically, Mother Nature is toying with us. She's mean and spiteful, and I don't like her much this time of year.
This is usually the point in the winter when I start longing for the things of summer -- activities like baseball and softball games, campfires, swim parties and zoo trips. I'm a big fan of the smells of summer -- things like freshly cut grass, sunscreen, burgers cooking on the grill and fresh rain.
More than anything, I think I just like the summer air, whether it's in the woods, at the beach, or just on the back patio. You can feel freedom and goodness in the air during the summertime. The summer has an aura not matched by any other season.
But the real reason I can tell I'm sick of winter is because it's not just the good stuff of summer I'm looking forward to -- I'm also looking forward to the bad stuff.
For instance, the thought of swatting a mosquito off the back of my leg sounds really good right now. Sure, it might be itchy and annoying. But I am longing for the day I have to spray on a layer of Off before I go outside.
And you know you're sick of winter when the idea of a sunburn sounds fun. Yes, I know sunburns are painful, and can do longterm damage to your skin. But to be honest, that kind of pain sounds very appealing to me right now.
Or what about spending a scorching afternoon mowing the lawn -- monotonously plodding back and forth across the grass, your shirt turning wet from the sweat pouring out under the sizzling summer sun. That sounds awesome. Seriously. Where do I sign up?
During the dog days of August, we will walk outside to a wall of heat and humidity. Some say the heat smacks you the face, with its flinch-inducing blast. And maybe it does. But right now, that rush of warmth would feel like a giant hug, a warm embrace from a long-lost friend.
In less than two weeks, the Groundhog will rise from his hole to give us his annual weather prediction. Perhaps spring will come early. Or maybe the winter doldrums are to be with us for another couple months. I'm rooting for the former; but I fear the latter may be the more likely scenario.
Or maybe I just need to start looking for an island to move to in the Caribbean or the South Pacific.
A couple of years ago, I came across the following quotation from Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana: "To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring."
As I have gotten older, I have tried to live by that. I have tried to embrace the changing seasons, enjoying each for what it has to offer. After all, though we might whine and groan when the weather isn't to our pleasing, our griping makes absolutely no difference. We are howling at the moon.
That said, there times when I can't help but lament the winter, looking longingly toward the summer months. This is one of those times.
I will try to be patient. Spring will get here eventually, as it always does. It is inevitable.
But I am anxiously tapping my foot.
aweld@blythevillecourier.com