I sit here, in my room, staring out at the darkness beyond my window and I hear the wind and the rain and watch the trees bend and sway with the gusts and what do I think? Do I think I am glad to be sitting indoors in the warm? Do I think it will be nicer when it is summer?
I am thinking I would love to go and stand in the garden with my arms outstretched and my face turned to the sky and feel the power of the wind as it wraps and swirls around me, tugging at my hair and as the rain sprays in my face and soaks my clothes.
So why am I here writing this instead?