The cold damp of this day hasn't eased a bit.
The rain came pat-patting, then came the click-clicking of ice crystals.
Now it's tap-tapping as the rain hits a little harder.
Soon may very well come the silence of snowfall.
Yes, our fields need the moisture; yes there are places and people who would shake their heads at my being irritated by the chill in the air. To be truthful a part of me is looking askance at the rest of me, the smaller part appalled at the larger part that wants only to see the sun shining and the temperatures in the seventies.
The dreariness dulls my senses until all I want to do is drowse the day away.
And so I am, noting the changing pattters and clickings and tappings, thinking that the grass in my yard is going to be knee-high before it dries out enough to mow it.
I think of those whose own weather troubles would give them thorough justification for cracking me a good one upside the head because I'm whining about a little rain, and maybe a little ice, and maybe a little snow. I do think of them, and pray for them, and am grateful for the solid roof over my head.
I whine anyhow.
When the sun comes out again, then I'll smile.
Every single winter I expect great weather immediately, totally forgetting how long it takes to actually get here, and for how short a duration it actually stays.
*sigh*
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