winter winds

The darkness is there in the morning, and stirs earlier in the evening.

The sweaters descend from the top shelf, and my feet are always cold now. Still I feel alive when the cold touches my skin and a deep breath in refuels my insides.

Our winter wind is the sound of rain on the window, and the leaves change so quickly there is no time for gathering, jumping or making scarecrows that last. Fall doesn’t exist here, or at least not in the way it does back east. There is nothing like fall in Ontario, just like there is nothing like cherry blossoms here in the spring. The vibrant red and golds are replaced with never-ending green grass. I never knew I held a soft spot for red until it was no longer in my field of vision.

Is it strange that the time of year that makes me pull out the layers also makes me feel the most exposed? Yet in a good way.

I’m my plaid jacket. It holds the ability to zip shut, but I almost always leave it open.

What article of clothing best describes you?



Filed under honeybees

5 responses to “winter winds

  1. f

    Fall doesn’t happen here either, just the continuance of summer.

    I have a pair of brown suede Ecco’s ($160 bought for $80!) that I wear constantly and love dearly. Sadly 2 days after I got them I chlorinated the pool and now they have little white splotches on them, covered by brown marker, but I still know.

  2. I know I couldn’t handle the desert climate year round. I don’t mind it in December/Jan. You must never wear jackets.

    Ha. Well, at least you can still wear them despite the secret cover up. I have a pair of brown rocket dog shoes that I love, but the sole is wearing so thin. Still hanging on until I can see a hole.

  3. Odd, just this morning I was thinking about a hideously ugly, baggy, stretched out of shape, holey, buttons missing, three sizes too big sweater that I wear most evenings. It’s me.

  4. John: Of course, such the obvious choice. ;)

    Barb: That sweater sounds comfy, despite its missing parts. I wear a worn black cardigan most evenings around the house. Wearing stretched sweaters is like that broken in pair/ripped of jeans.

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