Indian summer

The winter has been long, Lucifer. Not severe, at least not as severe as it could have been. The ground was covered in white, the temperature cold, the sky grey.
Then a brief patch of sunshine. But does this herald a change of season? Or is it just a painful reminder of what the weather used to be before a permanant global change?

Put down the umbrella and feel the warmth of the sunshine.

No Lucifer. For though the frost is a little less thick at the moment, I have seen no indication to believe the ice age is coming to an end. Or would it be more correct to say that I will not let myself believe that to be the case until the air reflects the warmth. If I embrace the sunshine with the thought that it is here to stay, how much colder will it be with the larger difference when the clouds inevitably return?

You do not know that.

True. But what indication do I have that I am incorrect, given so much that I am right? So I will try and keep the shield for my own protection. The son cannot be trusted. At least not to do me well.