Sadly, what may have been the last sunny days of summer passed me by while I was in a strange fugue (that I can barely remember) brought about by spending too many hours looking at too many words on the computer screen, and having to place them in apple pie order for publishing. I think I managed it. Hope so – I ain’t goin’ to do it again (sorry, I know where that came from), not immediately anyway (unless you can tell me of any glaring errors! Please no!).
This morning I awoke, not with the feelings of panic or dread that have visited me on occasions recently, but with an innate restlessness, which I recognised straight away. Chris had drawn back the curtains to welcome the day and I opened my eyes to grey, many shades of grey (not fifty, in case you’re wondering – and no, I haven’t read it yet). The sky was a battleship grey, the sea was a dark slate grey, and on the horizon was a huge battleship the colour of… well, not really, I got a bit carried away – it was an enormous tanker, unladen and high in the water – but it was grey, like everything else outside. Even the trees and the normally bright blue railings on our steps looked grey.
I pulled my bedclothes up around my ears and snuggled up to Chris for warmth. I jumped and pulled away because he had been up for two hours already and his hands were as cold as ice. Feeling a tad guilty for my apparent frigidity, I stretched out my arm and held his cold masculine hand until mine was as cold as his.
“I suppose this is it then?” I asked darkly.
“Reckon so”, Chris answered like a cowboy (he often slips into cowboy talk because he knows I like Clint Eastwood).
“The end of summer…”
“Yep!”
“No more sunny days?”
“Iffen there are, they’ll be a might colder from now on… yes sirree.”
“Well, I can’t go to Australia again this year. They will all be fed up with me after so many visits.”
“Nope, ‘ least them there polar bears will be alrighty though.”
“Yes, I saw that photo of the North Pole. Are we going to have an ice-age now?” I shuddered at the thought.
“Things is always changin’ – jest a pard a nature.”
“I’ve got a funny feeling in my bones,” I began, “if I followed my instincts, right now I would be heading south. Can we go to Spain for the winter, Clint?”
” Sure. I’m a already workin’ on it” Chris closed the window.
“Ugh! It’s too cold to get up.” I snuggled closer again when he got back into bed. “I want to hibernate…”
Chris thought that was a good idea too so we cosied up and hibernated for half an hour longer than usual while the harsh light of grey intruded into our bedroom.