There are gleaming jewels in the firmament of minds who have this idea
that winter is good for us. It reduces pestilence, discourages
termites, and gives ground an opportunity to sleep before fruiting.
Which in my view is an angelic notion belonging to the pure in heart,
rather than a constructive one.
do know that something belonging to me in summer always determines that a
coming winter will be cruel and unmanageable. As well, something
belonging to me in winter always determines that summers will be swift and
And yet, all summer long I picture myself
in winter, properly wrapped, out there finally getting things done that
should be done now. Then when winter does arrive I swiftly reverse
this imagery. In winter I picture myself in summer, about thirty years
younger, surrounded by barn swallows, blissfully happy, finally getting
those things done that should be done now.
The reality is that through the course of
a year there is probably one perfect day, all the other days should be
considered devious. This way the year becomes comprehensible because
struggle against deviousness has meaning.