It’s December 1 and it’s beautiful. It is also cold. Well, cold for me and my Southern bones. It was 31 degrees Fahrenheit when I left the house this morning. Anyone reading this who is currently in, oh, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Canada or Alaska for example, is right now giggling and mocking me. But I’ve lived my entire life below the Mason-Dixon line. If it’s below freezing, it’s, well, freezing.
This isn’t to say I don’t like winter. It can be an absolutely beautiful time of year. I just need a little time to adjust to it each year. And this year, it came on pretty sudden.
Yesterday, November 30, was exactly what a fall day should be like. Rainy and cool, the reds and oranges of the leaves were in stark contract to the steely grey sky.
This morning, however, was a different story. Granted, winter won’t officially be here until December 21, but in my mind, as soon as the calendar says December, it’s winter. And Mother Nature apparently agreed: icy blue sky, and cold, dry weather. Winter weather.
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