Western Michigan is in the midst of a spring thaw. The sun now emerges and lingers until 7 O’clock. The seasonal depression some have convinced themselves of having is dissipating as spring nears. It’s strange how fragile we are, how the emergence of a star can have such a pronounced effect on our physiology.
I too am affected, but in a quite opposite manner then most. The scents of spring act as a nostalgic and sentimental trigger for me, and I’ve never had much luck with reflection. Brooding, regrets, analyses of past self-sabotage.
I will miss the winter. The cold sterilizes, mutes my anxiety. In December, January, and February I am not the only one waiting for something, and I find that comforting.
But I can feel the spring now, it is coming. The colors, sounds, and chemical love are not far off, and I feel the struggle for contentment beginning again. Thank god for the fog.