I'm getting the feeling that winter-related depression isn't only caused by sun-deprivation. I think a silent, yet key player in our foul moods comes from layers upon layers of salt that have robbed the color from our every day lives. The streets are no longer black with neon yellow paint, but gray with dingy mustard colored lines running down the center. Our cars are no longer the vibrant shades of red, green, or blue that we chose them for, but appear to be stripped of all paint and left in the original gray shells. Of course, even if there were color out there somewhere we wouldn't see it, it's impossible to see through the accumulation of weeks worth of salty grime that is plastered to our windshields. We try to clean it off with wipers, but it only streaks, and we're left in a worse boat than we started out in.
The sidewalks are a mess, the buildings, the houses; they're all covered in salt, ice, and dirty snow.
I miss temperatures above freezing. I miss warm, dry feet. I miss red stop signs.
I should relocate to the south.