Melancholy is a lot like oil. It’s formed by the decaying remains of things that have passed on but left behind a trace. The remnants sits under a surface that’s been weathered by time and circumstances until increased pressure causes the by-product to rise.
When the sun shines on the layer keeping it contained everything is warm and flourishing. But, when rough weather hits it, it can chip or crack open enough to let darkness bubble out.
Sometimes the breach can quickly be closed with a landscape change. Other times wading through the muck to find the source is the only way to deal with it. But, often sinking into the quagmire until you locate the bottom then looking to the heavens for any source of light is all you can do. Once you find a right spot, you’re left clawing back from whence you came.
Oh, how truly glorious it is when you finally find the light!
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