Such a Hypocrite
For those who have spent any time at all perusing my book, it is readily apparent that I am an inveterate hypocrite. If you open the book to the Summer section for instance, you’ll find me waxing rhapsodic over gardenias and white linen, chinese lanterns and beachside storms. But flip over to Autumn and I’m positively giddy at the prospect of jack-o-lanterns and falling leaves. If Winter was all you chanced to read, you would swear on a stack of Bibles that this was the season I loved best as you found me curled up with Edward by the fire, lost in dreams of Christmas while the cold pressed its nose against my window.
In the face of such printed evidence, it is difficult if not impossible for me to defend my penchant for inconsistency. You have me. It’s true. I adore every season. Every single season. When the old one begins to whither and fray round the edges, I look for a change in the wind, a slight alteration in the afternoon light, with barely contained joy.
There was a day last week when the ice grey and brown of winter began to dissolve, melting almost imperceptibly to reveal a hint, just a hint, of lime green, weak perhaps, pastel and watered down, but there nonetheless. The clouds rolled back just enough for sunbeams to catch a traveling breeze and drift down to our little patch of earth. I threw open the windows and doors and filled my lungs with the sweet expectation of Spring.
And it came back to me with such intensity - the delicious feel of bare feet on soft grass, giant fluffy ferns swaying on the front porch, sun hats and garden tours, Easter bunnies and pink. It was as though I’d been given a present, this amazing combination of memory and anticipation which is a divine mixture that makes life worth living.
I had no choice but to fill the house with the strains of Mozart.
And even though the next day was cold enough to warrant a roaring fire in the fireplace once again, I still now knew it was out there, warm and green and waiting its turn.
Are you looking forward to it?
Seems this girl is: