It’s the middle of July now, and I admit I am one of those people that complain about the heat. I like BBQs and swimming, but there is not much else I like about summer – except maybe ice cream and the fact that I don’t have to put shoes on to go outside.
I’m a Northern girl, so I’m comfortable in the cold. That doesn’t mean I don’t complain in February when we have four feet of snow in the front yard and the temperature hasn’t been above zero for a week. However, I do prefer the milder seasons of spring and fall to the heat of summer and the frigid, bone chilling cold of deepest winter.
Therefore, in mid July, when I can’t tell the difference between the temperature outside and inside my house, all I’m longing for is a nice long cold snap. Sorry folks, but it’s true.
So, to get us in the mindset of cooler weather here is a little poem about November.
November
The air is cool,
and the sky is bright – at night.
The frequent rain is ice cold,
and mornings are dark and dreary,
It is hard to start the day
when it looks like it is time for bed.
I toss and turn, not finding sleep
when the sky is so bright at night.
What a topsy-turvy world
daylight savings time creates.
Frosted leaves crunch under our feet
with each and every step we take.
Windows full of steam and fog
turn into frosty paintings.
Occasionally, white flakes float around,
raining down on the earth
It is too soon for the snow to stay,
but not to foreshadow the blizzards of winter.
Ink Well My Raven Quill 