I think I have a case of the glooms. It seems, as we enter the month of June when summer begins, that I have lost complete track of this past spring. It started well... I think... with warm temperatures and sunny sunrises. I remember a month of early morning walks in April, documenting a photo-of-the-day with my cell phone. After that... well, I find myself here. Mid year already and feeling rather soggy. Spring turned nasty in the later parts, bringing in storms and rain... lots of it. It all became a blur, with any hopes of the sun coming back fading with the light as dark clouds rolled in day after day. I even found myself, from time to time, reliving my (over)emotional youth: songs by The Smiths and The Cure playing over and over in my head (those in my generational space will understand). It's been a heavy break up with the season indeed.
I went to Alberta, hoping for a pause in the stormy weather. But it followed. Or it was already there. Or it never really began. Whatever the case, my extracurricular photo taking showed nothing too different from what I left behind. But... I decided to embrace it anyhow because it's visual poetry and portrays the melancholy that has trailed behind me lately. And it's beautiful, in a dark-wear-all-black-16-year-old-Poe-reading kind of way... trust me on this one.
I can appreciate this black-and-white world a little longer because I know the Sun will be back. It's the month of June and it can't resist June for too long (I've also been tracking its whereabouts and know it's a sure bet). And since June is my birthday month, I like to think the Sun can't resist me either. Summer, it seems, will be a better friend. No break-ups, I hope.
I can forgive Spring 2015, however. I knew it couldn't last forever. It never does. This is one of those relationships that has a specific purpose, then must move on so other things can move in, like: warm days, blooming gardens, paddle-boarding, flip-flops, and...