My Winter, my lover...

Winter in Polokwane is like having a Gypsy lover.  You can never be sure when he arrived or when he will leave.  He rolls on to your doorstep without prior notice. You hear a chilling knock one day, and you  open the door and there he is; dressed in shades of brown and orange  expecting to be embraced.  Although you wish you had some kind of warning you let him  in, after all  he is your lover and a Gypsy and this is the natural order of things. The relationship is seasonal.  You welcome him into your space with a little reluctance and hidden excitement.

 Oh the things that winter brings!

In the first couple of weeks neither one of you know whether you are coming or going. It's hot and it's cold. You are not quite sure how to behave so while you are figuring that out ,; you put up a line of resistance.  You know he is there but you ignore him, pretend that it is still Autumn while he just lingers there waiting for the day to drop the temperature.  He knows that its only a matter of time until you face the truth and accept that  Winter is here.  Four weeks  into the dance you drop your guard , embrace him and flow into the warmth that comes with Winter. 

The fires come up!

You start to nest with him  creating an ambiance that bring out the best in him.  You make sure the windows are shut tightly; you  bring out old recipes of soup and chocolate treats.  Board games , films and double thick  blankets come down from last year's  theatrics.  It pleases you that the days are short and the nights are long.  Starting the day is difficult because you want to stay in;  listening to stories of Spring, Summer and Autumn.  So instead of hopping out of bed, you linger there taking it in for all that its worth.

As a  Gypsy,  with little else to do in Polokwane,  of course he follows you around all day.  Making sure that your  lunch of salad and fish is replaced with a heavy starch and a hearty stew.  He brews your coffee, fluffs your scarf and watches the clock tick till knock off time.  Together you drive to the store  to buy lamb shanks that you will cook slowly in rosemary and red wine.  He reminds  you to get wood as you will need a roaring fire to compliment the dark k/night . With Billie Holiday's blues and Satchmo's laughter in the background you sink into Winter's love.  The whole night is just delicious. So delicious that you forget that there is a whole world out there.

And so for  the next two months this becomes your story.  You and your lover.  You  and your Winter. Its a cozy love affair.  Warm, safe, loving and endless...

But  just as he came , he leaves.  You don't know when, you don't know how but one day you wake up and he is no longer there.   No warming,  no goodbye no sentiment about the last months.  Just as he came he leaves.

As the first buds of spring start to peep, you hold no resentment that he has left.   Maybe you even feel a little relief because you really just cannot deal with that kind of intensity for too long.  So you de-nest, and smile to yourself, knowing very well that he is a Gypsy and that he must be on his way. He always leaves but he always comes back.

With the same knowledge you smile knowing that soon enough  Lady Spring will be on your doorstep.

Lady sings the blues

Either way, keep me warm

A roaring fire to compliment the dark night