“Winter is coming.” Family motto of House Stark. We should take it up here. Or, more accurately, “Winter is staying.”
Just the other day, I slid across snow covered roads. As I turned, my car decided to keep going. Fortunately, the other drivers were observant and avoided me.
A few days before that, it was sunny and nearly 50. I suppose that was spring.
It snowed the first day of spring. Winter’s cruel joke?
Winter is relentless. Like George R.R. Martin. Just when you think it’s safe to have a favorite character, he kills him or her. Just when you think it’s safe to drive and not worry about snow, its time to put away long sleeves, and it’s time for the snow to melt, we get more snow and cold.
Winter isn’t coming. Winter isn’t relenting. Winter is staying.
And so, as I sit reflecting on the first death in A Game of Thrones (not even page 90), I consider it fitting that it’s cold and dreary (rain might suit better). Now I know the pain and anguish of a GoT fan. I understand the plight.
And wonder how much fun Mr. Martin takes from killing his characters? (But it does make for an interesting read: Who will survive? [Winter.])