Clear Skies Takes The Edge Off

Warm or cold, I hate overcast skies. It’s not quite seasonal affective disorder, since I don’t mind a season of long nights if they are clear and I can see the stars and planets. Even the longest day of the year sucks for me if it’s overcast. Grey skies usually mean low pressure systems that play havoc with my nasal passages. The accompanying low grade headache sets the annoyance bar very low indeed. Whereupon, if the sky is clear, and the sun is out, even the cold and snow are bearable.

The animals don’t seem to mind even a short cold day if the sun is out.

Yesterday, Claire got to wander the property instead of hunkering down in the barn. I think there can be nothing worse than the boredom that comes from being unable to wander. A change of a visual perspective keeps the heart happy. I will often wander around the three levels of the house looking out different windows, just to trigger a change of perspective. As Wayne Dyer used to say, “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

Passing birds gave sharp context to yesterday’s pure blue (one of the colors I can see perfectly) sky background.

The light from last night’s apex Beaver moon refracted its extensive beams through the cold, clear atmosphere. Nocturnal beauty. And in that moment, as I returned from the barn, I realized that the one sense I would truly hate to lose is my ability to see.

I hope that during the next three weeks, as we hurtle towards the hibernal solstice, that Mother Nature cuts us a break and offers us clear skies and plenty of sun. I hope there is lots to look at.

Well, Monday is again behind us. Tuesday is there to tell us “See, you can do this.”

So let’s have that final cuppa and go deal with whatever keeps the lights on, the boiler heating and puts food on the table.

Friday will be here before we know it.

But first, a couple of kitties to cuddle and, as of yesterday, I’m back at my post-COVID rounds.

My furry friends were thrilled to see me. There is nothing more rewarding than seeing horses and dogs watching you approach, recognizing you, and rushing to meet you by the fences. Even if it’s just for the treats. After all, would we really give a shit about the Jolly Old Elf, if he showed up each year without presents. And I enjoyed returning to my wandering and change of perspective. It takes very little to maintain the harmony of life.

You fine, five readers pull your socks up and get out there and conquer the world.

And whatever else we do, let’s make today a great one.