Attention all greys—the forklift is on its way.

Life has been feeling dull and timid lately—struggling under an oozy sense of gray; a ghoulish mist which tightens itself into a headache at the base of the skull and never lets go. Everything internal and external feels stuffy.

‘Let’s blame the rain, let’s blame the rain, let’s blame the rain.’

That single line plays along the nerve-endings like a never-ending song in time with the tempo of relentless rain; showers, drizzles, gusts and downpours. We’ve been sucking up moisture for so long even our sense of humour about it has been drowned.

That’s not to say there haven’t been a day or two of sunshine in between. There has—teasing, tormenting days of brilliance. Days where the sun pushes the clouds apart and the space behind our corneas ache from the unaccustomed brightness at the same time as our spirits are grabbing at it like starving monkeys.

Sun—it truly is a vessel of hope. We feel it slide across our skin and if we be still we’ll come to feel a delicious sliver of gold melting through our pores, to warm our joints and ease our movements. And if we stay still just a little longer we’ll feel, or hear, a gentle pop as our energy,   freed from its winter cocoon, begins to burble like a small brook through our veins creating a hum that feeds our spirit and gently moves our bodies into motion.

Personally, I think winter is why Valentine’s Day was created. Not for lovers but for those soggy spirits needing a heavier push. They need a burst of pulsating hot, soul-thumping rich crimson energy. Red is like a forklift reaching for those stuck neck-deep in the bog of winter gray. It’s a lifeline to grab onto. And there, on the forklift’s side, tucked into the thin strip of polished chrome, is a big old honking sign that reads,

“Get the hell outside. Pay attention! Look at how the sun is trading its thick heavy cloak of pale winter white for a lighter shawl of warm yellow.”

Now, excuse me but I hear crocuses breaking ground…

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