I’m well aware of the shortening of days. It bothers me, leaves an unsettled feeling for what’s ahead, not quite dread, but a distant cousin of it. Another blogger referenced the “pitiless elemental ferocities,” which is about as good and succinct a way of describing winter’s harshness as I’ve ever heard.
A summer girl through and through, I’ve diligently made a point to “make my peace” with the darker, colder seasons, to counteract the gloom with plentiful indoor light and cheery decor, and to find things to enjoy in the weather. It’s a stretch at times; once I’ve acknowledged the scrumptious pleasure of huddling under a thick pillow of blankets, cozy and satisfied, on a chillingly cold winter’s night, or sipping a cup of hot chocolate after an invigorating foray outdoors, the “list” starts to kind of dry up.
The change in day’s light, the brisk early mornings, and the first leaves turning, are naturally the obvious signs something is afoot. But there are secondary shifts that I have not thought about as much. It’s the quiet. The fans and the air conditioners are silent and still, the doors and windows are shut, and the chirps of birds are distant and less frequent. Everything feels muffled. I feel disconnected from the outside world, residing in my own bubble.
In time, I will adjust and become more comfortable in the bubble-world, shift gears, and invest more in the kinds of pastimes that are best suited to long, cold winter days. I will pop corn, knit, and sing ditties around the hearth. All right, I’m kidding – just want to make sure you’re with me. I can’t knit, I can’t sing, and there is no hearth. However, corn WILL be popped.
I know that I will stare wistfully out the window, trying to imagine what summer felt like, trying, unsuccessfully, to remember it. I never truly can. I know I did this or that, but I just can’t quite get back there, and part of me secretly, irrationally, fears the warm season will never return. I feel like a simple, ancient human who thinks I’m being punished by vindictive gods who’ve stolen the sun.