This is the ultimate betrayal in a once wonderful relationship. I’m talking about winter. And I will be as direct as I can be. We are no longer friends and will never be again.
Hub bladed out that long strip of snow in front of the house and for a few days the sun shone till bare grass showed through. And just when I thought I could use that lovely strip for a few putts, you plugged it up again.
You’ve even changed that dry crisp air, that I could muffle myself against on the coldest day with down jacket and three pairs of pants to a moisture-laden coldness that seeps through everything. That climbs right into the marrow of my very bones and now – even if I do no more than glance out the window, my teeth chatter and my blood gels.
I generally can walk away from a bad thing and wait for it to cool. But not with you. You are too cool for that kind of resolution. And so, rather, I simply have no choice except to be as bitter a fiend as you are.
And so, I want you to know, that I will never again walk on snowy trails and sing because even my voice in the still cold air has a sweet kind of clarity that surprises me. And I will never make fresh prints in your blankets of white and think about the wonder of newness and the glory of having walked where no one walked before.
I will never suck in your crisp cool air and think of it, as I so often have, as lovely as the bouquet of well-chilled wine. And I will never watch in wonder the symmetry of over-large snow flakes descending from the sky.
I will never smile again with pleasure at the flash of so many flawless diamonds in your morning glow.
Oh ‘tis true, on the outside, you look stunningly beautiful. But on the inside you are wicked, mean, and nasty, and completely capable of being the worst kind of villain. I am so done with you.
Friends? No. No more. Not ever, ever, ever.
I have learned to love mud. Gooey sticky mud. And rain, and thunder-storms, and flies, and mites. Even mosquitoes. I won’t even flinch when they all zone in. I can take it.
But what I can’t take, is anymore of you.