The Squatter

Blue skies embrace the bright sun as the temperature rises above forty degrees. Clouds begin to meander in as blue shades turn to gray. Humidity rises and the wind feels as though it will blow right through the layers of defense worn beneath the outer coat. Another log in the old stove keeps the inside feeling warm and crisp in contrast to what’s beyond the door. Rain will soon spread its way across the frost browned terrain reminding us that spring has not yet arrived. Stiffness, pains, and frustrating tremors experienced in the midst of winter doldrums add to the knapsack strewn over the shoulder on this journey through winter. Knowing that this season will pass provides some solace but no cure for the current affliction. In the shadow of a downcast mood, I begin to think of opportunities that lie before me. A walk down the farm lane; a wrestle with the puppies; a journey to the gym and ample firewood for the stove, not to mention delightful companionship, begins to lift the veil of melancholy that would steal today’s joy. Gratitude begins to drive out the despaired squatter from the abode too small to share. Eyes see brighter now, even in the overcast sky. On today’s journey, thankfulness is the fuel igniting the flame of gladness that makes the pathway clearer.