Mean Streets

Friday, as I was riding back from Communion Ministry at the Hospital, I couldn’t help to notice that winter has made the streets mean.

You can’t go far in the Region without catching a pot- hole. They are every place. Sometimes, it’s no use even trying to avoid them. You’ll either run into a car or another pot-hole larger than the one you tried to avoid. Coupled with the dark, angry clouds that seem to hang around forever, it makes for the streets looking the angriest that I can ever imagine.

Even the people hunched in their cars look angry. I notice them looking straight ahead. You can see them mouthing curses as they ride over another of the thousands of pothole’s that they have to encounter going from one destination to another.

That’s what late winter brings to us. We’re hanging on by the skin of our teeth, waiting for spring to arrive. It can’t arrive too soon for me. I’m tired of it all.

Then again, come July we’ll be talking about the summer smack down. When the heat and sun seem to melt out patience away. The circle is never broken.


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