Please forgive me.

I’m sorry for the things I said about you — the unkind puns about the heat, my complaints over the seasonal swarm of mosquitoes, and my bitterness regarding the sunshine that broiled my skin. I miss you. Winter, that frosty bitch, with her shrill keening, can never replace you in my affections. I tossed you over for Autumn, in the mistaken belief that the romance of crisp falling leaves and the cinnamon…