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The Drunk Season...

Like a lot of people, winter isn't my season.  While the first few days can be charming and the holidays have their own special sentimentality, the cold and snow just aren't for me.  Before my dear friends ply me with advice about full spectrum lights, vitamin D, essential oils, and anti-depressants, I'm well aware of coping mechanisms for Seasonal Affective Disorder.

For me, winter has a hunker down feeling.  I curl up inside myself.  But as the days grow longer and the light gets brighter and the days get warmer, I feel myself unfurling.  I find myself standing still, my feet in the grass, with my face turned to the sky, letting the warm rays wash over me and fill my starving eyes with color and light.  Don't worry, I'm not looking directly at the sun, as tempting as it may be.  My neighbors probably think I'm nutty, but I don't care.  There's a magic in the birds tipsily whirling around me, collecting bits of this and that for their nests.  There's a beauty in the smell of green grass and growing things.  There's a sense of peace as the rabbits hop by, playing games of chase.

It might seem strange that a self professed night owl should enjoy the growing days so much, but there's a shift that I can feel within myself.  From hunker down mode to singing silly songs, it's as though the blooming of flowers makes me drunk.  That seasonal intoxication makes all things seem possible.  Maybe it's my allergy medicine?


This post first appeared on Andrew Thornton, please read the originial post: here

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The Drunk Season...

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