Enjoying It While I Can

Eventually I will get tired of cold. Eventually I will be cursing the bleak dreariness of late autumn, early winter, late winter, and far-too-distant spring, and the thin anemic blood coursing through my veins that does nothing to protect me from the wind and chill.

Right now, though, it's novel enough to be an exciting and invigorating reminder of the new season and the coming holidays. My cheeks tingle and the breezes try to sneak under my cloak and my hair whips back and forth in what is for the moment a fun and enlivening way, and I can understand why this used to be my favorite season.

There is a comfort and hominess and goodness in coming in from the cold to warm up that isn't matched anywhere in the spectrum of coming in from the heat to cool off. Warm weather is a time for laziness and relaxing in a way that winter doesn't even try to match, but cold weather is the time of nesting, which is indescribably reassuring to a domestic creature like myself. Few things in this world can match the delightful hug-like feeling of wrapping myself up in my favorite fuzzy sweater after a day of shivering in an under-heated office. And tonight I get to snuggle up under the new afghan my aunt crocheted for me.

I just hope that somewhere in the murky misery of February, I can at least remember that I felt like this now.