No one wants to be a grump. I certainly don't.
I would much rather be writing of springtime and the joy of sunny afternooons and blooming, buzzing meadows. Of course, this inclination is more likely a response to the winter fixation, and compensation for it, as all of the seasons have their charms, and the totality of the cycles carries its own cosmic beauty.
All of these cycles still exist in some form in the present, and can be observed and enjoyed. However within my own field of vision, these things are fleeting. One must contend with the most prominent features found in one's world.
I suppose we tend to occupy ourselves with the most pressing and significant matters which call the most attention to themselves at the moment. At this moment we are concerned with winters, with contraction and even dissolution. At least a dissolution implies the eventual rebirth of something new.
