It Isn't Easy Being Green

What I hate about winter, even more than the cold, is the darkness. It’s dark when I leave for work and it is dark when I return. All day long, sunbeams flirt through the window near my cubicle, filling me with restless energy. By the time I’m released from my corporate chains, though, the disk is slipping over the horizon.

Because I only see my home in the dark, I didn’t even notice the destruction that Wednesday night’s below-freezing temperatures had wreaked on my garden. Last night, with the aid of a clear sky’s twilight, I surveilled the damage. The hydrangea that was still green and thirsty this weekend is now a black lump. My gaillardia blooms have frozen in place. Even the vigorous coreopsis foliage has begun to sag. My plants and I have been shocked into winter.

I knew the cold and darkness would come and I made plans to keep myself busy this winter, working through projects to teach myself basic carpentry. So far, though, I haven’t made any progress. Walking home from the bus stop in the cold night air, all I want to do next is eat dinner and then plop on the couch with my blanket of cats and a book until bedtime.

I feel like a plant myself, entering dormancy without sunshine. I don’t feel alive until the weekend, when I can use the sun’s energy to run errands and work on projects. Is it possible that I have chlorophyll in my veins?