Damn, I sense days getting short.  Right now there’s less that ten hours of daylight.  With most of that time spent inside at work being able to see the melancholy light on our birch tree is a rare treat.  And a reminder of the end of things.

Or something.  Feels gloomy at the moment.  There are bright spots though — the ride home on the Vespa, a few bites of chocolate, two dog faces greeting me at the door.  Simple things that don’t ever seem to wear thin.

I used to walk Essa and Iggy Pup through this cemetery a dog generation ago.  But the rise of inconsiderate (non-poop-picker-uppers) led to “No Dogs Allowed”.  Now I just ride past on the Vespa no longer visiting Dave and Tom and others.

The temperature is inching downward.  On the ride to work it was 39F.  The weather forecast suggests 31F tomorrow morning.  I’ve been exercising my ice eyes. And thinking about installing the Tucano Urbano muffs to keep my hands warm.

The days are getting short.

Candy and dreams help make it through the dark.  Vicarious travel through ink and paper and gentle distraction through spending money at LL Bean are just a few of my favorite things.

The days are getting short.  And I’m none too happy about it.  I’ll discuss my displeasure with a dark chocolate cashew turtle.  And fondle a chocolate covered graham cracker.

What’s a man to do with days getting short?