A Treaty for Warm Days

 Pen and ink drawing

Cold days with strong winds dry my hands and make my joints stiff. My fingers move slow and my feet become numb weights at the end of my legs. My toes swell and lose feeling. The wind breathes through the cracks in the window by my desk.

On cold days I long to lay out on the grass and be warmed by the sun. To feel any kind of warmth is a pleasure.

On cold days I yearn to leisurely read at Strada, but the cold makes my nose run and my notes blow away. My hands cannot form the motions to turn the pages.

Cold days can mean rain and if you're unfortunate to have holes in your boots or broken umbrellas, this means wet socks and soggy clothes. Wet dirt trails slog through hallways and homes.

Cold days can mean colds and flus that sweep through campus like the ominous wind. Pauses in lectures set off choruses of hacking coughs and sneezes. A pack of clean, dry tissues become heaven.

On cold days, my brain slows as if a foggy layer has settled onto my consciousness. I vaguely remember days that were "too hot", and can no longer understand what that can mean.  So I'm putting down, in writing, my promise to enjoy warm days that don't have a hint of the chill of winter, so I can remember and embrace the moment when my fingers are not stiff and my toes are not numb.

I was playing around with my dip pen and washes during a rainy day in February.  All I needed was to look outside for my inspiration for this drawing.