Every Silver Lining has Its Cloud

I am depressed; in a blue funk; melancholy; down in the dumps. I am tired of cloudy days. I look out my window and I see white snow and gray skies. I can see Lake Erie from my window, and even it is now frozen over in striated shades of white and gray. The world is awash in shades of gray. It’s depressing. I want it to go away.

A tiny bit of research assured me that I am not imaging that we live in the cloudiest place in America. Cleveland, Ohio is near the top the list of the cloudiest cities with two hundred ninety nine days with cloud cover of some sort. Buffalo comes in with three hundred eleven days of cloudiness. Being nestled in between these cities on the lake, we are bound to have just as many dismal days. A mere fifty four days of total sunshine grace our area each year! No wonder I’m depressed! How do we live like this?

Unsurprisingly, Phoenix is the sunniest place around. Unfortunately it isn’t around here. The closest “sunny” city to us is Oklahoma City, and folks I want to tell you, that’s over twelve hundred miles away. I am in serious need of some sunshine. I don’t even care if it’s cold and snowy; I just want some blue sky and sun.

I am not fortunate enough to be able to go to Florida or Arizona or some other sunny, warm clime in the dead of winter. I am stuck here in the white-washed world of western New York. So it becomes necessary to play mind games, trying to convince myself that it isn’t as bad as it seems. Before the lake froze over I could look out and see strips of blue and I reveled in the aliveness of it. It was a touch of intense color in an otherwise dull world. Now, in the depths of winter, I look out and try to imagine the world as one big silver cloud. I peer up and imagine a damask tablecloth with flat weaves of tree branches on it and I gaze at the stand of evergreen trees covered in snow as if they were gowns all dressed up with silver glitter. Every cloud has a silver lining they say. My world is all silver for the moment.

I really do try to appreciate each season for what it brings, but this white world we live in is feeling a bit like a padded cell right about now. Did Punxsutawney Phil see his shadow this week? I’m in dire need of spring.