Image by Anna Inghardt
I am not much of a morning person. Nor am I a fan
of winter. Combine the bleak morning chill with darkness before dawn breaks and
I am at my least creative, least constructive and least friendly.
I returned from living in the tropics in
1996 and I have quite uncomfortably grappled with the winter months every
single year since. I try to deny the fact that winter is approaching once the heat of
summer says goodbye, and when the chill does hit I pretend to ignore it. If I
don’t acknowledge it, it doesn’t exist. Except the constant pain in my neck
from a childhood head-on-collision injury and the ache in my bones are fierce, stark reminders that winter in fact is upon us.
I don’t much like winter. Dry skin craving
moisture, garden craving sunshine, bikini craving beach visit; everything
around me tells me the cold is here. I rug up to keep warm and get too hot. I
dress down to cool down and get too cold. I have a scarf permanently attached
to my neck to humour the old neck injury. I cover my ankles to keep the chill
away and then smile at the mockery of the pink ugg boots adorning my feet. How did
I become so dorky? Winter is how. My pink fluffy dressing gown keeps me company
at dawn, so what of it? My bikini is laughing at me from the spot I left it
hanging over my shower screen some months ago. I gaze at it some mornings, like
a lovesick lover pining for what once was. I know my bikini will come to life
again soon. Any day now.
I don’t like to count the days away, God knows
time flies by way too fast. But secretly, oh so quietly, I do count the days
until spring. After I down my second cup of coffee for the morning I peer
outside and smile when I see the sun smiling back. Still grateful for the small
things such as a winter that barely reaches below zero degrees, a winter that in
some countries can be classed as a mild summer. But when it hits 40 degrees and
I am perched on the sand in my long lost bikini I won’t be thinking of this
brisk winter morning. I will humbly count my blessings that I live in a country with such a beautiful summer and that I was born a summer child. And very quietly, oh so begrudgingly, I will be dreading the fact that in the back of my mind I know, as sure as the sun is shining, that winter will be back again someday soon.