Almost Winter

It’s that time of year again. The beautiful rainbow of autumn leaves have mostly fallen to the freezing ground leaving only the tenacious, brown and dried hangers-ons clinging to the bottom most branches of the skeletal trees. They remind me of molting vultures with their bald tops and feathered and scabby bottoms. The sun has headed south of the equator causing that curious change in the slant of light that causes me to feel sleepy all afternoon and into the early sunsets. All I want to do is nest; bake breads and cakes, cook stews and mull cider. I want to swaddle myself in down comforters and wear thick wool socks that make my feet sweat. I want to snuggle in front of the TV with Dan and Bronwen and crochet all day and night. I can’t stop lighting candles all around the house; I relish the jungle-like humidity of my bathroom after morning showers, and dread the barefoot climb north, to my closet in the freezing upstairs room. I love this time of year. It is romantic and sobering, festive and sentimental.

One late November I spent in Australia where the beaches were just warming up for early summer break. I put on my bikini and sunbathed the days away until thanksgiving arrived and the generous Aussie’s put together a makeshift American turkey dinner for us. There is something strange about eating turkey, pumpkin pie, stuffing and roasted potatoes in 90 degree weather while hanging out in your tank top, shorts and flip flops, and planning your next trip to the beach.

I prefer the northern hemisphere experience. I like the shortening of the days, the drastic change in temperature and nights spent cuddling under blankets, our cold toes and fingers burrowing into each others warm spots, under arms and between knees, until finally warm, we melt into the long winter night sleep.