literal or figurative . . .
Rain, at long last, has penetrated into the interior of our land and my soul.
The burning sun of a protracted summer had effectively removed my resolve to get necessary things done. Now, with the advent of cooler temperatures, my getting to those neglected chores should be a snap.
It isn’t.
An unforeseen sadness has crept gradually, insidiously into the fabric of my life. Loose threads of a garment hanging loosely about my diminishing frame are unraveling more quickly than I can stitch them back together into whole cloth. Strange, this annual change in weather that I anticipate so eagerly yet with always the same result upon my disposition.
I love the cool, the wet, the dark. Nonetheless, I am saddened at the departure of sun and blue sky.