Some prefer the dullness of the same season over and over and over again. And then there are those of us who appreciate the beauty of the four seasons.
Winter. When you can stick out your tongue and catch those snowflakes, where Christmas is White, just as it should be. When the darkness falls and your home feels insulated and quiet because the snow is out there, muting all sounds for you. You set logs on the fire and it is a time to be together and cuddle and things….
…..Then in the morning, you awake, look outside, try to shove your door open, and can’t find your car –and your neighbor just had a heart attack shoveling his driveway and there’s a freshly dumped six-foot snow-plow cliff at the driveay entrance as a reminder of the futility of his efforts. It’s also a time when you can ski in the refreshing snow until one day you wake up at 5 AM and ask yourself what kind of nut gets up at this hour to freeze her ass coming down a hill on two boards? Vivaldi didn’t cover these things , but nevermind….
It’s still worth it at times like Christmas, when you are in awe of the wonders of winter–which has now officially begun. And this is also why Santa never really visits places like Florida and California. The reindeer require snow. So these people just pretend–and are forced to tell their children much too early that there is no Santa Claus, resulting in this sorry picture of a young sun-bleached permanently-affected child:
…..And now, onto Vivaldi and Winter:
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