There were days when summer was the best season in the year. It meant vacations, long lazy days of doing nothing. Summer quietness was a special thing… that serene silence in the afternoon, after a heavy lunch and the feeling that your limbs were drugged. Of course, it was meaningless if we were indoors… so those times were spent in someone’s gardens, on someone’s roof or in a shady corner of the playground, making plans for the evening.
I woke up today morning with the realisation that I now loved winters. The warmth of my comforter, the chilly wind mixed with patches of sunlight on the balcony. The air smells different and a heavy lunch is just the icing for the day. The days are surprisingly short… pitch dark by 6 in the evening. I wrap myself up in layers and sit in that little patch of sunlight… does it make it old?
Today my bones feel weary, like they have walked many miles. The weak winter sunlight, the cool breeze and the lingering peace of the afternoon feels refreshingly soothing.
In a couple of months, I will be waiting for the summer heat again… maybe. But in too long to remember, I can feel winter descend on the city… with its sharp breeze, shorter days, darker nights and the overpowering fog covering us all.