Awww, fuck.
I know the feeling, mate- I know it all too well.

For me it's traveling up Rte 28 as I enter the Adirondack Park, after coming up the Deerfield Hill and feeling the air temperature drop about fifteen degrees and seeing the first of the old hemlocks and birch.

Last weekend I was there, listening to the loons cry and smelling the organic scents of leafmold and hayfern, coffee in hand as the sun sparkled on the water... and now here I am back in Virginia, stuck inside because it's hotter than hell out there and so humid that you sweat the minute you step outside.

Shit.

And seeing this didn't help much either.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Sun 2 Aug 2009, 16:36, Reply)