Prose for the seasons

When morning comes, I long for bedtime.
Flannel sheets, our dog tucked between us, all of us drowsy and cozy.
The sweet oblivion of a solid nights sleep with help from my little yellow friend.

When evening comes, I long for morning.
The house still hushed, a lit candle to dispel the gloom and darkness,
reading my morning devotionals and praying to God.
Getting ready for the day, that first sip of coffee,
the grandkids running towards me down the front sidewalk.

When we go on vacation, I long for the comfort of my own home.
When vacation is a distant memory, I long for rest and relaxation in a condo,
on the beach, listening to the waves pound the shore...
the gentle whisper of YAHWEH coming with each crest.

In the heat and humidity of a long and hot Summer,
I long for the cold, crisp days of  Autumn.
In the Autumn, after the leaves are gone and daylight is replaced
by gray clouds for days on end,
I long for bright Summer sunshine and green trees and grass.
That humidity can go fuck itself tho.

I love Winter and the cold air. I love when it snows a lot.
I love living in that marshmallow world thingy. (hate the song)
I feel energized. I want to cook fabulous meals. And redecorate the house.
I wish we had a fireplace to gaze into during dark and snowy nights.

In late Winter, I long for Spring to get here.
The snow has now turned into a blackish/gray slush
and the cold at this point in time has grown tiresome.
I find myself scanning the trees looking for buds.
On the ground I see a smidge of green. Is that a Crocus?  LOOK! IT'S A Crocus!!!

My gardens look terrible except in my minds eye,
where I can just imagine what the perennials I planted last year might look like in a few weeks with a lot of annuals thrown in.
Birds start singing at dawn; happy to be alive and so am I.

After early Spring when that initial high of planting and pruning and mowing and gardening has worn off, and those birds need to shut the hell up...
It starts to feel a little bit warmer.
Sunlight lasts a little bit longer and so do the days.

Pretty soon the heat starts to creep back in and it brings with it
that hateful friend of his called humidity.
Let's be honest...The words Humidity and Miserable Bastard are interchangeable, right?

Winter-Spring-Summer-Fall
What's your favorite season of all?

Thanks for reading,
Love, Lolly