Dear Winter:

I submit. You are all powerfull. You have trodden the strongest hearts and wills into bloody heartcicles and we are done in. We are depressed and cold and tired and cold and bitchy and cold and we really only like our beer cold. Which by the way, you manage to freeze when left in the trunk for 4 hours.

Please go south and/or north for your hibernatory period and allow us to refresh our memories of warmth, and sun that has heat, and walks around the lake that don't see one frozen in place on the Trafalger bridgehead. Or go to Cuba I hear it's nice there this time of year.

The winter blues, the flue, the ague, the sniffles, headcolds, bronchitis, pneumonia, arthritis, bursitis, excema will follow your recession into the hinterland and the peasants will rejoice.

Please make us happy and go away.

With all my heart,
the frozen flatlands