In the midst of winter, Albert Camus apparently found within himself an invincible summer. One can only imagine the oppressive humidity; the perpetually sweaty armpits; the wasps repeatedly dive-bombing your ice cream. You'd think, having grown up in the Algerian heat, Camus would make better seasonal choices in his life.
For me, I think I'd find within myself an invincible Autumn. I'd be reasonably content with an invincible Spring but I'd prefer Autumn. Just imagine, it's deep midwinter, your heart is frozen stiff and your brain is encased in ice, but all of a sudden you feel fruitfully mellow. Is that mulled cider running through your veins and an apple pie baking in your solar plexus? Yes it is and it sure beats the painful sunburn you'd suffer from in an invincible summer.
I suppose there may be dark moments when a dreadful sense of pumpkin spice pervades the air, but on the whole you're sitting on a park bench admiring Mother Nature's paintbrush tinting the trees shades of red and orange. The days maybe shorter than summer, but who in the name of Sisyphus likes long days? Bring on cozy nights by the fireside.
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