Up in the land of ice and snow, it’s about this time of year that New Englanders battle the springtime blues season.
You wouldn’t think that would be the case, with temperatures on the upswing and summer greenery on its way, but after a long cold winter of fighting cabin fever and room rheumatitis, all it takes is a needle on the camel’s back in the form of a blustery cold or overcast skies to plunge ones spirits into a melancholic state.
We have the same thing in south Florida, only it occurs in early fall.
I can hack the heat and humidity all summer long, but the trigger for me is Labor Day – the traditional first day of fall up north. Once it hits, my mood dampens with the reality that Florida’s humid days and sultry nights grind on for another 6 long weeks.
Out of the blue my brother gave me a call today. He lives outside of Boston, but he’s a Yankee fan.
“The weather’s really got the best of me,” he lamented. “It’s been all clouds … and cold.”
“I know, or rather I heard” I told him, explaining that I had listened to the Yankees afternoon game against the A’s on the radio. “(John) Stearling and (Suzyn) Waldman (they are the announcers) kept alluding to it … and how it was affecting the players.”
“By the way, the Yanks won in extra innings” I said. “Melky Cabrera hit a walk off in the 14th.”
That momentarily buoyed his spirits, but then he reasoned out loud: “Those extra innings can’t bode well for the upcoming series against the Red Sox in Fenway.”
Sometimes the springtime blues are hard to shake.
Photos are of Gunpowder River, a tributary of the Chesapeake Bay, earlier this winter.