![]() The gloriously pure, vitamin-D giving, mood-enhancing sun graced us with its presence today in my neck of the Georgia woods. That's it, plain and simple. I sing hallelujah! I try not to let the weather affect my mood. For someone who was once diagnosed with clinical depression, the weather can set off low moods, but really not so much with me as with others I've heard, even those who do not have the disease we call depression. People just seem to fare better on a sunny day. I think I do pretty well overall making it through the short, sometimes dreary, days of winter. After all, what's better than curling up with a good book by the fire or under a quilt (or both!) as the rain beats down outside and the temps slide solidly into the forties. That's a recipe for cozy for sure. But when the days of drizzle and gray skies turn into weeks of drizzle and gray skies (or has it been months?), even I begin to wonder if the weather is to blame for my less than cheerful countenance. The month after the holidays is always a downer for me anyway because, just as a person comes down from a sugar-high after ingesting large amounts of sweets, I come down from a holiday-high after ingesting large amounts of family, laughter, and good cheer at Christmas. The more I talk with folks who are not from around here, the more I realize Georgia with its changing seasons and overall mild temperatures is a great place to live, and my 50+ years as Georgia resident prove it's the state for me. My daughters and I love New York City, but anything north of southern Virginia is a little too cold, too snowy, too "iffy" for my bones in the winter. And as much as I absolutely love the beach, I'm not sure I'd want to live there year round because I would miss the spring and fall seasons experienced here that are pretty much non-existant in Florida. In the past my son has called me and bragged about his attire of choice on Christmas day -- shorts and flip flops -- and the 85 degrees he happens to be enjoying in Tampa Bay. As good as that sounds right about now, I wouldn't trade the sweatshirt-donning weather of a Georgia fall, followed by the nippier temps that accommodate jackets and boots and cute little crocheted caps and scarves as winter takes her turn here in the south. And, I'm sorry, but Christmas just ain't Christmas if it's 60 degrees or higher outside. In my opinion, our worst winter day is better than the best day up north, and our most brutal summer day is a walk in the park compared to temps recorded out west come August. The great State of Georgia takes care of its own in a mighty fine way when it comes to climate. Even though the sun returned today after many days of playing hide-and-seek, I know that winter has really just begun. So despite the brief interludes of great weather, we are still in for some cold temperatures and maybe even some snow and freezing rain in our near future. Last year, if you remember, Georgia was graced with two rounds of snow within one month. I love a beautiful dusting every winter, but nothing that will keep me housebound more than one or two days. After that I begin to get a little stir crazy! I did, however, capture some beautiful images of everything covered in white and always do enjoy the one light, barely-there snow we Georgians seem to get yearly. But that, my friend, is all the snow I need in my life. So tomorrow the sun is predicted to greet us once more as she peeks over the horizon, warming up the air just a wee bit more, prompting plans to head out to the park for a much-needed frolick on the playground with my little Preston -- with my camera in tow, of course. I will revel in every sun-filled day that the Good Lord chooses to send our way as we inch closer and closer to spring in the southeast. First, however, I'm afraid we must endure February and March with their winds that so often howl through during their visit. But come April, when the daffodils push their tiny little crowns up through the soil, we will be reminded once more that winter is only for a season. Come spring, come.
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August 2020
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