Toxic Skies

Winter is my season of discontent.

Every year I go into it thinking, "This time, I'm ready for it. Many people like winter - the holidays, the snow. It's a good time to work on indoor projects. So, suck it up and enjoy it. Or, at least, get through it."

But once Christmas is over, and we've had our first and/or only big snowfall, the clouds aggregate to form one solid gray expanse, like a dome, trapping me in the cold and bleak midwest for months. They poison my optimism and steal my energy.

I bundle up to go outside - confined. I drive in my salt-covered car with the windows rolled up - confined. I move slowly in a world surrounded by shades of gray - confined.

My skin contracts and cracks. My bones feel brittle and my joints sound creaky. I feel a chill in my core that doesn't quite go away.

I've been an Ohioan all my life. I like the changing of seasons - well, the concept, anyway - and I should be used to the winters by now. I wish I could see the beauty in the barren branches and the unicolor landscape. Perhaps if it were a one-week destination vacation, I'd appreciate its novel appeal. Yet as a permanent residence that consumes 25% of my year, it lingers like guests who have outstayed their welcome.

Yet Ohio is my permanent residence, and I won't be leaving it anytime soon. Like quicksand, it holds me here by my family, my friends, the places and things I know. I don't have the energy to move, so I suffer a slow sinking.

I want to be where the skies are nurturing, where I receive my dose of Vitamin D not from a daily supplement, but from the life-giving sun itself. I want to feel the hot rays penetrate every cell of my skin, through to my central core, so I can in turn radiate heat and light. I want the humidity from the warm, moist air to plump and naturally moisturize my skin. I long for June.

What's that? Out of my peripheral vision, I thought I caught the skies lightening. To glimpse direct sunlight would be too much to ask (or would it?), but some diffused brightness might be a realistic compromise. Alas, no. It was an optical illusion. Everything is still - still gray, still stark, still motionless.

So I will choose to create my own brightness today. I'll wear hot pink. I'll put on bright lipstick. I'll lighten my hair. If I can't see the sun, perhaps I'll just be it.