August’s End

For the first time in ten years, I find myself wistful that the days are getting shorter and the nights are getting colder.

Winter beckons her long, pointed icy finger, and this time I am loathe to follow her down her icy path of starry skies and crisp, foggy moors.

I don’t know what it is. Is it the fact that social distancing has made me anxious to be indoors around other people? Is it the fact that long, bright, heady evenings are now gradually departing, leaving sudden darkness in their wake?

I don’t want to welcome winter. I want it to be summer all year around.

On Pines

What I really like about winter is the fact that if you live in a pine studded estate, you do not lack for lush greenery. There is something so pleasing, so soothing, about the dark green splash against silvery white, against dull brown and grey, swaying with mighty force through torrents of winter wind. Pines are the trees of winter. They master the season, like the fiery cascade of death masters autumn.

I’m gonna really miss this ole place.

On Bits and Bobs

The cold has settled in folks and the guy who replaced my windscreen today said he was “getting too old for this job’ whilst gripping a hot cup of tea and stomping his feet.

Teeth were chattering, mist was rising, people were just mounds of clothing and puffs of snowy white breath and grey clouds hung low in the sky, spitting out rain every few hours or so.

I didn’t do much of anything today but thought I would post a little sum’n sum’n.

I am still scrutinising Aphra Behn most intricately and she is proving to be a very tasteful writer.

P’raps I might write a less academic review after I have submitted this assignment! I could do with some lighthearted literary writing, as opposed to all these literary devices and analysis of themes. Themes can be so mundane sometimes, fellow humans.

Merry Winter, and Happy Munching!