Into battle we shall go!

The oh so familiar winter chill has started to stalk the air.

If we didn't need any further reminding - the whispering deathly breeze for sure is that reminder.

The icy echo of a season that we always get is gathering pace.

It lurks like a shifty cat waiting to pounce.

Summer is never this predictable.

It never takes its role so seriously.

Winter, without fail, informs us in more than one way that it is on the not so far horizon.

Its smell is astute and punctuates the atmosphere.

The season that always seems to linger.

Batten up the hatches.

Get prepared.

It can be remorseless and overwhelm those who do not heed its warnings.

Clothing contingency plans are in full effect.

Knitwear rises to the fore.

Cardigans and jumpers fight to accompany you out of the door.

They have lain in wait. Patiently awaiting that recall. They always knew their time would come again.

Woolly hats jostle restlessly in the draw. They will soon be donned. Flat caps and snap backs will cease to be no more.

Multiple layers shall be summoned.

They will embrace a body that requires extra warmth.

Scarves and snoods already are being flirted with requited regularity.

Before we know it the light of day will be a lessening commodity.

Darkness will be the new currency that we all deal with.

A deep, cold, penetrating puff of a chest is in order.

Let us go forth and combat the gloomy elements.

To battle we march.

Together we shall taste victory.

I can freely admit that I probably moan about the winter more than most.

For those who don't have the stomach to face the elements.

I suggest that they stay at home and drink tea and eat some toast.


Demola, TCC