It’s strange, I sit here looking out the window staring at the poor guard dog in the gallery across the street. I guess he has it better than the guard dogs in the uhaul center next door. Walking out of the house to get here, you could vaguely smell the scent of winter, least, as clear as you can potentially get it in this place. The cold makes a distinct aroma that most Southerners don’t understand till they spend the in-between season up north and actually watch this transition. You can vaguely detect a hint of snow, around here it’s just a tease of mother nature, we know it won’t happen. Some of the bred Southerners already have fires going, which helps note the season change with that peculiar scent of store bought wood. Not the same if you cut it yourself and stack it.

People bundled up as if we’ve already gone through the first freeze, or they’re getting prepared for one of their few interactions with a real winter in Aspen or Vale. They never got the chance to really appreciate a good pair of Moon Boots, much less what they were, or be stuffed into a snow suit that creates the stick figure they laugh at in A Christmas Story.

The one benefit, is the new Atlantic Station, as you come south into town, has the lights up and the festivities for this weekend and the coming month blaring away. I think that’s the closest to seeing the feel of winter I’ve had down here. For some reason, Atlanta is much more subdued on Christmas, and winter in general, than you get up in, say, Chicago. They celebrate, as does NYC, I’m sure (but I haven’t lived there to find out). I find that rather odd for an area that prides itself as being part of the Christian south. You’d never know it if it weren’t for the cheesy pop carols that play in the stores the week after Halloween. The closest we come is the trees of lights on top of Piedmont Hospital and Stone Mountain.

I have to say, I do miss a good snow ball fight, or making snow angels on the school playground, or even having a real reason to light a fire. Every year, my ET sends me pics of snow (or at least she tries to get a decent pic). I hope this year that I do make it up north during winter, with enough time to appreciate it, I really need the actual season change, here, you get hot, warm and cold. The closest we get to snow is lots of sleet or hail. Kinda sad, really.

I guess I just want to feel something other than the gaping hole that I’m feeling now. Not even sure what I really want at the moment, to the point I’ll settle for whatever I get.

With that, my apologies to those I might seem to be bugging a lot. I just want to collapse right now. Been wanting to sleep a lot, which usually accompanies depression. My attempts at reaching out are just my means of staying awake, finding a reason to get through another day. I’d rather have the shared solitude of a phone call without words, than a loud, chattering conversation. I find silence to be a much better form of communication than words, which, oftentimes just cloud their own meaning.

Two souls sharing space, reaching out and entwining with the other till they cease to be separate entities and instead fall into each other creating something new, fulfilling each other and growing in their own manner. That need to connect, tap into the part that makes us animal and the part that defines us as human.

8 comments

  1. As always, if you need to reach out to anyone who would listen, just let me know. I’ll be there.

    (I should listen to more classic Motown soon, even if the above brings to mind Michale Jackson before he was replaced by an alien.

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  2. Getting down to about 35 here, and here is in Florida. Actually, beautifully clear, and feeling more like woods than jungle, which for me is a nice change. Yeah, smells like woodsmoke, and the stars are very near.

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