Annual introspection

     The sky turns a slight gray. It has been wandering between blue and gray for the last 48 hours. From the comforting yellow of the summer sun to the blanketing gray of the fall sky. The day mellows much earlier now. The quiet of this Sunday afternoon reflects the dark solitude of the early dawn. The noise of gasoline chugging machines seems non-existent. The occasional roaring motor interrupts this silence. This is the time for reflection. To consider what the current calendar year has meant.

    Every year in New England begins with a bitter cold that paralyzes ambition, leaves one to believe that surviving the day is good enough. Even salt water, a warrior against freezing temperatures, gives in to the solidity of the frozen world. The colorless bays of Eastern Massachusetts try to mimic a dark sinister blue, almost gray surface cracking with white volcanic eruptions of tidal movement. All plant life on land is frozen to its core. Waiting in silence for a shred of warmth. With warmth brings a different form of moisture. Snow and ice give way to dew, mist, and of course rain.

     The anticipation of the warm weather creates a disdain for rain. In a region perpetually assaulted with government issued signs warning: Water Ban in Effect, Hand Held Hoses Only, rain still remains the enemy. The rain doesn’t live in symbiosis with the latest fashions in clothing and hairstyles. The rain doesn’t perpetuate many sporting events, picnics, walks in the park, or any other outside activities. The rain is often viewed as a deterrent to life itself.

     That is, until the brutal humid heat of July sets in. Suddenly the rain is welcome. Anything to capture the humidity, bring it down to earth and rid the atmosphere of its suffocating presence. Often a day inside with an operational air conditioner seems a welcome escape from the sweltering heat. So many chances to enjoy the earth’s sunshine missed for the sake of saving sweat glands. It is the time for the many bodies of water nearby to soothe and cool the sweat glands, rejuvenating the drive to be alive.

     Eventually the heat subsides and a period of sunshine and cool breezes monopolize each day. Outcries against the heat turn to relief. The realization that winter is coming will set upon some people. Others will welcome the turning of the leaves. The applepicking season has arrived. Soon the pumpkins will fear the knives looking to carve faces into their vegetable flesh. Indian Summer at its best. Shortly, New England will decide what kind of winter shall be endured next year.

     The time has come to feel the next holiday season. For some it means the obligations of family, and a drain on the wallet. For others it means a chance to settle down and enjoy all that has been given to us in this lifetime. A time to leave our mistakes behind and use our successes to fortify our future. If nothing else, a chance to share our time with the people we consider unconditional friends and family in this life. We won’t know if today is the last day, all we know is that we want to spend our last days with the people we love. This is an annual motive.