I am Reluctantly Writing About the Weather

I don’t give a damn about other people’s weather, and here I am writing about mine. At least I have an angle – the wheelchair angle.

My life is so different in winter as compared to summer. In warm weather the area I can independently navigate is large. It starts with the wooden deck and
brick patio in my own backyard. Then, in my immediate neighborhood I have bars, restaurants, stores, banks, the post office, City Hall, my doctor’s office, several parks, oceanfront vistas, and more. If I jump on the Greenbelt Pathway, I can be at Bug Light Park in twenty minutes, with sweeping views of downtown Portland, Casco Bay, and lighthouses. If I go in the other direction and cross the bridge to Portland, I have Maine’s largest city at my disposal. Finally, if I take the bus (and I have a bus station about a block away) I gain access to all of the greater Portland region.

In the winter, I lose almost all of this, at least independent access to it. The double-headed monster of cold and snow drives me indoors. I'll occasionally have somebody bundle me up so I can head out to one of the lunch places closest to me. That’s it. Otherwise I wait for Kim to give me a ride somewhere interesting, or I stay in my home, which is a wonderful home.

You can imagine how much I look forward to spring weather. My world opens up. This year it will take a little longer than usual because of the heavy snowfall we experienced. The snow banks are just starting to shrink.

Because of my book project, I’ve had something to keep me occupied indoors all winter. But I’m ready to venture out. No, the word ready doesn’t do justice. What word…what word?

I know: I’m aching to venture out.

My redneck friends would say: I’m hankering to get out.

My literary friends would say: I have a longing, nay a hunger, to venture forth.

My engineering friends would say: The addition of an outside option would bring me greater utility, so I desire that change in state.

My California friends would say: Dude, why do you live in Maine, in the winter, in a wheelchair?

Some Pictures

The ocean at the end of our street has been frozen for weeks.

Nick took this picture during a storm at my beloved Bug Light Park.

Amy took these pictures from the comfort of Nick's truck (smart girl).