Winter is creeping closer every day. Even with the heat on at home, there’s a chill in the walls and every night before I go to bed I pull the bedroom window down a little lower than the night before. I wore my winter coat for the first time yesterday, an omen of things to come. The thermometer outside my kitchen window read 21 degrees on this early November morning.
Walking yesterday I noticed most trees are naked now, their clothes in piles on the sidewalk. Small yellow leaves still cling to some branches and sparkle in the sunlight when the wind passes by. I can relate to their obstinate resistance, although I also know ours is a losing battle. Winter comes whether we want it or not.
There are less people walking now, and some that I pass are members of the resistance, it’s obvious by their insistence on wearing shorts, their hands shoved into their cotton hoodies. The braver among them still wearing flip-flops. The weather forecast indicates it’s not going to get out of the 30s tomorrow and a work colleague mentioned we may get a “wintry mix” this weekend, sounds ominous to me. The good news is it will be the weekend so I have the option of staying home. It’s those “wintry mix” weekdays that challenge me and my little car, especially now that the clocks were turned back last weekend and its dark driving home.
One would think that living in the Northeast for a lifetime, I would be used to this time of year, would have grown to accept the change from fall to winter. When I was a kid it was easier to accept because winter meant Christmas and gifts and sleigh riding and ice skating. Now it means deciding if the storm outside is severe enough to stay home from work and, if not, it means driving in the snow.
Makes me wonder why I was in such a hurry to grow up all those years ago.