One Day, Four Seasons

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Abstract

ure>I open one eye to peek through the spaces between the blinds. It’s dark. Cloudy. My cue to return to sleep. Minutes, maybe hours, pass and I awake from a broken slumber. I open the other eye, peek, and spot sunshine. Much more reassuring. Summer? I look out the window. The ground is still wet. Hmm, spring. During my short flight downstairs, the sky redarkens, now spitting hail. It’s actually quite beautiful. <i

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Untimely, but beautiful. I’ve always loved winter. I open the backyard door and cup my hand to catch a few pellets. The hailing quickly comes to an end. The air is crisp. The colours are dull. Beautiful, but dull. It smells like autumn.The earth may just be having an identity crisis. That or it’s merely happy to be on vacation. Or maybe something else entirely, who knows.</article></body>

A seasoned day in Ottawa

I open one eye to peek through the spaces between the blinds. It’s dark. Cloudy. My cue to return to sleep. Minutes, maybe hours, pass and I awake from a broken slumber. I open the other eye, peek, and spot sunshine. Much more reassuring. Summer? I look out the window. The ground is still wet. Hmm, spring. During my short flight downstairs, the sky redarkens, now spitting hail. It’s actually quite beautiful. Untimely, but beautiful. I’ve always loved winter. I open the backyard door and cup my hand to catch a few pellets. The hailing quickly comes to an end. The air is crisp. The colours are dull. Beautiful, but dull. It smells like autumn.

The earth may just be having an identity crisis. That or it’s merely happy to be on vacation. Or maybe something else entirely, who knows.