I love everything about the cold and about being cold. A lot of this has to do with my general constitution: my body temperature is low (for reference, I’m usually in the 96-97 degrees range), I sweat profusely when I get hot, I lose my appetite right around July 1st, and if I even spend a moment too long in a hot tub, I come close to fainting. I went jogging with my uncle when I was at home for Thanksgiving, and he commented on how insanely red my skin gets when I’m exerting myself. Meanwhile, October 1st hits and as long as the weather stays below 65 degrees, I suddenly feel like Superwoman. I skip around the house, run outside when it’s sunny, walk to work with speeds hitherto unknown, fall asleep within seconds of clicking off the light and closing my eyes. My energy’s up, my body feels fabulous, and my mood couldn’t be better.
But, this is a delicate time of year nonetheless. I went into a major funk when the clocks eased back out of Daylight Savings time. I got the flu two weeks ago, coupled with a sinus infection, and was essentially out of commission for about ten days. Right after work I’m exhausted, because the darkness which drops like a kidnapper’s bag over Boston’s head at 4:45 PM is startling when the last time you saw the sun was 9 AM. I try to make my way out of my windowless cubicle and walk around outside, but some days work is too overwhelming. December’s here tomorrow and I know this month will be fall’s last gasp. I know the darkness will keep coming earlier, and I’ll have to start popping Vitamin D pills again in order to feel semi-normal. I know my joints will start aching every morning again, no matter the amount of blankets I pile on my bed, nor how many cats decide to spend the night purring at my feet.
Yet, this process is so much more beautiful than the opposite. I think some people abandon fall once all the leaves are all gone, but I just keep loving it more and more around here. The bare trees are gorgeous against a silver-grey sky, as are the brick buildings, the colorful coats and hats. The bitterness of the mornings recently has made my nose run, but it also makes the air I’m breathing feel clean, fresh, a rare feat for the city. It’s a burning clean, like the feeling of inhaling bleach fumes, but feels natural, too.
I’ve been saying for days now that all I want to do is be under several blankets, drink tea, read books, wear funny ear-flap hats, and be cozy. This time of year, late November-Early December, is perfect for engendering those feelings, which make me feel warm inside even if I have to run around buying groceries and trying to make the bus instead of marinating on the couch in all those warm clothes and hot drinks.
Not everything is good about this time of year, but I would never trade my preference for it.