I've always been a fan of the seasons. There are four, of course, as is familiar to all, and they are called Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. So far, so good...
When Spring is here we know it's time to fall in love. "Birds do it, bees do it," and so do we. Spring is when we howl at the moon every time something in a short skirt breezes by, or for the ladies, something in a skimpy pair of underpants. I believe nature's technical word for it is fecundation.
Summer follows Spring and is also a time to fall in love, if you missed your chance in Spring. In Summer we climb the walls and make wolf calls every time something in a tight little bikini and saucy tan struts by, or, again, for the ladies, something in a skimpy pair of swim trunks.
Then there's Fall and Winter and they're not much good for anything. It's hard to fall in love in Fall or Winter, unless your hormones are wacky. But the seasons are what they are and there's no getting away from it.
One thing I've always thought was cool is to use the seasons as metaphors for the other aspects of life. Hear me out. Let's say Spring is like your childhood and teen years, Summer your young adult years (up to 39), Fall the mid adult years, and Winter your golden years, or, as it is with Grandma, last call.
So, thinking like that, we could say, I'm still in the late Summer of my years. Or, like in my actual case, I'm in the Fall of my life but sometimes it still seems like Summer. I actually believe I'm still not too old to cut the mustard if the opportunity were to present itself and could enjoy the sight of, hypothetically speaking, something saucy in a tight bikini. But I'm in the Fall years. True, but I'm not in the Winter years.
I'm wondering what the Winter years will be like. Already I know the Fall years are a time of some dropping off, some interest is waning. If you ever see Cialis ads on TV, look closely. You'll see most of the guys with this problem are in their Fall years. But one day I saw one who seemed closer to his Winter years, and I thought, You old goat! I'm thinking the Winter years will be a time to focus on the issues of morality, such as saying your prayers with more diligence. Not worrying about bikinis. Hope I'm wrong.
Well, I was thinking of the seasons in relation to my hiatus. The seasons relate to everything! A few months ago was the Spring, when I was bucking free like a baby lamb, feeling my oats and enjoying a bowl or two. Then came Summer, a great time to stretch out and feel the full sunshine of my time off. But quickly followed Fall, a cautionary time, still a time to try for happiness even if it means taking medicine. And now, it seems, I'm into the Winter, a time for prayers and diligence. I'm second guessing even what it's all about, what I'm here for, whether any of it was worth it. And thinking, to recapture the youthfulness of Spring I'm going to have to terminate the hiatus.
That's a great way to look at it. It's not that I personally am done for, even though I definitely am in my Fall years. But I can revivify myself mentally by bailing out on this Wintry hiatus, and change it all back to Spring and get into some halfway decent mental fecundation. I have a few spry cells left in my hiatus-addled brain. How could I imagine it if I didn't? I can see before me many many Spring-like days to come!