The Dirty Cycle

It's that time of the year when thing heat up a little, people start to seep back into the sea.  It is with a guilt-laden heart that I approach this part of the cycle.  A heavy head hung knowing yet again I haven't fulfilled the promise of another winter. The usual excursions to California produced their typical bounty, the time spent in the water in New York found embarrassingly minimal.  And now with every passing degree, the stirring of the populace anew, I join the market forces in frothing as if it were a something we've been waiting for.  But we haven't.  And I promise, it hasn't been waiting for us.