I'm pretty sure I don't have Seasonal affective disorder, SAD, though I do more often feel lowercase when Autumn rolls around except when some asshat is guessing a leafblower to move the autumnal deciduous celebrants from their lawn to the sidewalk and street to share with the rest of us. And do yourself a favor and don't get me started on my mood when winter arrives.
Out for a quick walk yesterday morning (it is Walktober in these parts you know so I thought I should get with the program even if only in a limited manner) with overcast skies, for the most part, and temperatures warming up from the lower forties where they spent the night into the upper fifties as I made my way.
We're had a dry time for the last couple of months, except when I have gotten the car washed, of course, and then everything short of a rain of frogs has happened. I mention the lack of rainfall because I stopped at the Lower Falls of Uncas Leap and it is, as always, beautiful, but it was more rocks than roaring and rushing waters than at any time I can remember over the last nearly twenty-eight years.
Suspect the rains, soft and otherwise, will fall in due course and then I'll complain about that as well.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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