Remember those cold December days? How we longed for the sweaty Summer haze. Especially on such days when our little azure and viridescent speck would don a blanket of white, riveted with chilling streaks of ice. We would long for those bright hours that lasted far into the night, and despised our weeks which seemed to never become true and warm day. We pleaded for the heat, but forgot the memory of those blistering days.
And then the days would come- we’d pine for our white blanket, wishing to part from the low roar accompanied by a stiff chilled air, those hot, hot, sun streaks that would burn our backs, and ice cream trucks which moaned far past the set of sun, into our hallowed night of rest before yet another day of cruel fever.
But we longed for that sun not too long ago. We dreamed of feeling warm sands under our feet as our toes curled up, we wanted to hear again the far sounds of beach tunes echoing onto the windowsill. We missed the dreamy feeling when a cool breeze would come at us, brushing through our salt-watered hair. Desires for winds that wouldn’t cause chattered teeth and fluttering scarves haunted us during our Winter blues.
You see, we quickly forgot the swelter when the heat passed. We forgot the haze of dreary days. Each one would pass with the disappearance of final auburn sun streaks across the sky: the violet and tangerine heavens fading at dusk, shifting through the colour spectrum until they would reach and stay at the cumulative black darkness for which the surroundings would remain until our nearest star awoke from sleep. Slow, hot, dreary days interluded the occasionally less hot and starless nights. Nights that would shadow upon the rusted buildings and broken neon signs. Pools that would go dark, only to be detected by a rising chlorinated stench, and the insects: flies, mosquitos, wasps, and hornets buzzing through the skies, creeping through the cracks in the walls. Even bugs longed to escape the heat.
And so, we continue to lay in a new wake after the wintertime dark. We return to the sweltering Summer days, and forget how much we longed for them in those weeks past.
I call to you, dear reader, don’t long for these Summer days. When you feel the cold sweep up on you, and the brutal winds streak through your spine, avoid dreams of summertime color. Don’t long for a far-off tomorrow of dreamy, lovely days in the fair sun. Remember the endless hours of sweltering heat and clammy faces, itchy red arms and shoes ruined with sand. Imagine those men walking in yellowed wife-beaters, hairy stomachs peaking in a gap above grayed Bermuda shorts.
Savour your cold, dark, desolate Winter while you have the chance. Revel in those foamy hot chocolates with their fluffy marshmallows that would float and melt into the warm brown. Imagine the bright orange fireplaces, and the stares you would cast into the bright abyss, enveloping yourself in the fiery warmth. Reflect on those days just after the storm, when you’d go flying down snow-capped hills on trash-can lids- only to go running back up again, tearing off your jacket and hat and scarf because you were much too hot on that freezing and snowy day.
Imagine anything, just don’t dream for those searing Summer days- Winter is warm enough.