Winter Funk

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know when to just pull my lip over my head and swallow…

Riding my horse is a wondrous salve for my salty soul. The salty soul is getting saltier with every falling snowflake.

Winter is getting to me this year. I think it may have something to do with the fourth broken snow shovel, armpit deep snow and the 20-foot snow banks outside my door. I’ve seriously thought about packing up and heading south for the winter but then I remember things like snakes and scorpions and other prickly things. I scowl one more time at the snow piling up as I longingly peer toward the barn and my horse. Somewhere out there, buried in that icy snow bank, is my good mood and creativity.

I even wrote a poem about it. It goes a little something like this…

Wind. Snow. Rain. Snow. Ice. Frozen gates. Broken plows. Hungry horses. Snow. Snow. More snow. Rain again and snow. A giant bag of winter suck. The end.

Don’t worry, I’ll make it more of a haiku next time, or possibly a soft and gently delivered limerick. But for now, you get what you get.

I find myself looking back on warmer days longing for that mountain trail to unfold before me between my horse’s ears. I miss the sunrises and sunsets. I keep thinking with every cup of morning coffee, I’ll rise above the funk, that somehow the dark brew I sip is a magic mood enhancer, that I’ll rule the world. As it turns out, I only end up managing to wear pants, be semi nice for about an hour and use somewhat appropriate language. Winter funk, I tell you.

But, alas… I know this too shall pass. I know it won’t be long before that old roan horse and I will be trekking down a dusty trail in the Bob and I’ll forget this moment, this cranky mood, even existed. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to write better poetry and focus all that good energy into something more useful like knitting or doily making.

Hopefully, the winter funk passes you by and you’re able to picture those summer mountain scenes, the adventures ahead of you and still enjoy the moment you’re in.

Happy Trails~

Heather