five degrees of separation
When I woke up this morning it was 5 degrees outside. Fahrenheit.
Cold enough to keep me inside, bundled up in a great sweater, counting the hours until it’s time to light the fire. Cold enough to make me oh so glad I don’t have to venture out into the great wide world today. Cold enough even to keep naughty kitten inside.
And so, a new year, one that seems to want to freeze everything in sight, even time. And I am cocooned in this house, though I will venture out to pull some snow off the roof in the place that always leaks, to shovel outside the back door so the dog can get outside, to set some suet out for the birds, because my goodness, it’s not a good day to be a bird.
There is work to do before I can snuggle up next to the fire, but these are the days of winter that I love. The early days before cabin fever sets in, the days when it feels like a treat to be snowed in. Of course, the novelty of this wears off fairly quickly, and by next month, I will begin complaining, yearning for green, and the days when you can walk outside unencumbered by coats and hats and gloves.
But for now, I’m enjoying the silence. The white blanket that keeps getting heavier. The frost coating every window in the house.
Winter is a cold, cold friend who almost always overstays her welcome, but she’s a beauty all the same.
She holds the fury of the night and the patience of forever.
She might even melt your heart, a little.
But watch out for your fingers.
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