When I lived in Los Angeles I remember being asked a significant amount of times, do you miss the seasons? Well, my short answer is the same now as it was then… no. I like the warmth, always have. What about the rain and the snow? No, they’re cold. I will say I do enjoy the beauty of changing seasons, I even enjoy the feeling of wrapping up warm or huddling around a fire but if I had a choice, I’m okay with the sun, although sometimes the heat can be desperate but I took a pair of scissors to some old jeans and made myself some shorts and everything was okay. Despite my love of the sun, I found myself up north in Oregon in the dead of winter. Somewhere near Mount Hood. The snow was like it was out of a movie, the air was clear and there was nothing but stars hanging in the night sky. I realized I didn’t need the summer sun to feel warm nor did I need the winter to feel cold.


It’s a winter night

A cold delight

My fingers are numb

Toes starting to sting

Staring at an unworn ring

She bought for me

Before the wedding

The fire’s crackling

But nothing’s happening

No-one else around

A thousand miles from home

Sat in a cabin for two

Drinking whiskey alone