I am so done with winter.

Yesterday’s snowfall only deepened my contempt for this climate and the particular place I am at this stage of my life.

It is still March.

The month of March is one of both indecision and uncertainty. Forget all that ‘in like a lion, out like a lamb’ crap (or the reverse); it’s folklore, at best. This entire month of March continues to creep on sloth-like.

I have lost my motivation. I slept in this morning. Seasonal depression hovers like consistent cloud-cover.

Spring, calendrically, is only a few days away. Even then we’ve got to wait until April, at least, for spring showers to wash away all the debris and desolation of this past winter.

I’m feeling it now.

It never used to be this way.

It’s funny how I never remember the cold of winter from my youth. For years, I could not wait for snow to arrive. I could not wait to get out on the ski slopes.

I, now, simply can’t get nostalgic about frostbite, long johns, or new skis.

The most exciting thing about this past winter was buying snow tires. Really.

Does my age have anything to do with my lack of appreciation for winter or is it only the weather?

Whether it is, or weather or not, this winter becoming a memory cannot happen soon enough.

© 2026 j.g. lewis