Today was one of those gray, rainy days on which the fallen brown leaves seem even more sere than they did on the windy days that preceded it. And the now-earthbound foliage lacks the color it had in the days when it was about to fall from the now-bare branches. At the same time, the sky doesn't have the stark clarity of the clear winter sky after snow has fallen.
Someone once told me that what I've just described is a very good metaphor for middle age. Some would say I am of that age, but I don't feel I'm much like the scene I've just described. Still, it feeds, feeds off of, and feeds again any fatigue one may be feeling.
Today I talked with one colleague who can't wait for the semester to be over. I'm sure she's not the only one who feels that way now. At least by the end of the semester, there will be an interlude of cheer from the lights and colors, induced though they may be, of the holiday season.
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2 comments:
That's why I moved to Georgia. I remember those endless winters of gray skies and cold and mostly rainy (with occasional snow) weather. I don't miss the north at all.
On days like this, places like Georgia have their appeal.
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