Return of Five O’Clock Shadows
It is Icy Cold, But the Sunshine Lasts Longer!
Estimated reading time: 1 minute, 50 seconds
The cold weather has penetrated my bones as I walk towards an uncleared part of my daily route. The snow beneath my boots is crystalized and makes a crunching sound as I turn left from North Avenue onto the trail alongside the Rahway River. A year before my marriage, Jan and I had walked in Ft. Greene Park, which felt like a moment reminiscent of the novel Dr. Zhivago. However, as much as I wish this moment was more like the novel, the only sound is the crunching echo of my boots. As I stroll through the icy terrain, I keep my balance and move forward. Some path sections have cleared halfway to North Union, but the shadows make it difficult for me to navigate.
The long winter month of January has plunged me into the depths of seasonal affective disorder (SAD) once again. The pervasive cold lingers despite the sun’s valiant attempts to brighten the day. As I go about my daily routine, I must tread carefully along the icy paths, determined to fulfill my fitness goals by closing the exercise and calorie rings.
As I climb the stairs towards the third floor, I unwrap The New York Times from its blue plastic cover. It’s January 20, 2024, a year from the next presidential inauguration. The uncertain future of who will be sworn in makes me feel anxious. However, a piece of information suddenly pops up in my mind, giving me a glimmer of hope. Today is the day when the sun will set below the horizon at 5 pm in my backyard. It may not instantly become warmer, but it’s a positive sign that encourages me to believe in a future of warmer weather and longer, dancing shadows in the evening.
The Jan Lilien Education Fund sponsors ongoing sustainability and environmental awareness programs. Gifts made this month; I will match dollar-for-dollar. All donations are tax-deductible.
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"You earned a double ribbon today," my friend Cindy said as she slowed down to walk with her dog Henry next to me.
"Why, two ribbons," I asked as the brutal winds chopped my words into tiny ice pellets.
"One for walking daily and the second for walking in frigid weather."
I nodded and reminded myself I was walking for physical and mental health, not ribbons.
"The lake isn't frozen."
"Climate change," she responded.
Words Frozen in My Mouth!
It is Icy Cold, But the Sunshine Lasts Longer!
Estimated reading time: 1 minute, 50 seconds
Until this January, I wrote at least two memories of my life with Jan each month. I have shared many of those in the Sharing Jans Love newsletter each month.
There are still stories in the recesses of my mind, but like that first experience with the TRS-80, the words do not flow from my mind to the paper.
Some might think of this as classic writer's block, and at times I concur.
But I am still an amateur wordsmith; the stories I have written were not merely memories but a story that flowed directly onto the page.
Albeit long-form memories are obstructed, I still write shorter streams of consciousness. Most are about how I am doing now.
