Bleak, dead, and monotonous are the words I use to describe the scenery in January. A depressing time, it seems, to me when outdoor activities are attenuated unless you are a hardy individual whose metabolism is so high you are fine with a polar bear plunge.
In January my mental state declines and I aspire to a warmer clime. It seems I am not alone in my melancholy at this time of year. People’s spirits seem to reach depths of despair to such a degree that it affects the health. January is the month of death, it seems…
True enough, it is winter blues that seem the fault more than the month. The death count declines come spring, summer, and fall, but rise again when the cold wind blows. I don’t think it’s actual physical trials that cause the mortality climb, it seems more mental….
I am puzzled though, at the rise in August. Yet, this does not detract from the infamy of January, which still dominates the chart.
My dad suffered his heart attack January 20th of 1995. He was dead by February 6th, if I recall. My mother followed within two weeks. Winter is a bad season for my family.
Perhaps we should have Congress eliminate January.