In most cases, winter blues can be associated with dismal weather. I, on the other hand, am glum from the deficit of a wintry setting. Nostalgic for the snow-ridden banks, a nip in the air, and a solid snowball fight, I find myself wanting. I long for a trip down a snow-glazed hill on my trusty red sled, wind biting harshly into my cheeks. I wish for an alabaster winterland, to no avail. I dream of building an albino Frosty, dressed to a tee in fluorescent accessories. Snowballs zinging past my ear with a whoosh of the wind. Iceskating on a frozen pond, abandoned by nature's pets for a warm southern climate, would make my heart sing with bliss.
A fine winter wardrobe of suede jackets and fuzzy sweaters lines my closet in hopes that just one cold front will find its way south.
But, alas I find myself nesting with flurry of colorful fowl that has seen my climate fit for the winter. I will break bread for the ducks as they bask in the warmth of the sunshine. Shades of brown from nature wilted at the core will have to suffice in place of my white winter. Sunshine glistening off the pavement must satisfy my holiday. Who would think sunshine could be so lacking?
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