The end of Daylight Savings this morning marked the end of one half of the year, and the beginning of the other. I know that DST is really more than 26 weeks, but the non-DST part feels long enough to be half. A friend once told me about a book in which the author describes six seasons: Spring, Summer, Fall, The Clenching, Winter, and the Unclenching. That image really works for me, because there's about a month and a half (half of October and November, March and half of April) on either side of winter that's not quite fall- or spring-like. Colder and grayer than those seasons should be. I think those months falls into this half of the year, the one we've just begun.
The shortened days have a lot to do with my negative feelings about winter. The limited daylight makes everything feel rushed to me. The sun is setting when I leave work, so I hurry home on the darkened streets. The stars are out by the time I arrive, so dinner feels overdue. No time for a nice walk or anything else outdoors, it's already night. And the wind is so biting that I've no inclination to venture outside anyway.
Luckily, I've discovered some antedotes to the season(s) ahead, and I'm looking forward to partaking in them. These are things that I don't enjoy nearly as much at other times of the year, so I guess that says something for winter:
Chai. Tastes the way I imagine liquid pumpkin pie would. I got some of the rooibos kind at the store last week, and it's waiting in the cupboard until temperatures drop.
Baths. When Stephen and I were looking for an apartment in Cambridge, we called our priorities the Big Three: I wanted a bathtub, he wanted hardwood floors, and we both wanted a dishwasher. We lucked out on the first two with this place. When I feel particularly cold or tired or sad, I always go run a piping hot bath. It's soporific, too.
Food. I love cooking in the winter. Smells nice, warms up the house, cheers everyone up. I'm making eggplant tonight. Maybe something with pumpkin tomorrow.
Light. My family is notorious (among its immediate members) for leaving the Christmas tree up until February. I still do that. It's so nice to have a lit-up tree in your house when it's dark and gray outside. Plus, it smells good.
Radio. This one surprised me, but I discovered last year that turning on NPR really takes the edge off when I'm feeling cooped up and isolated. Particularly This American Life or Wait Wait..Don't Tell Me! (But not A Prairie Home Companion. I can't take that voice.) Or sometimes I'll play records. Charlie Parker is particularly good for this.
There are a bunch of other things, too, now that I think about it. Wood stoves. Snowshoeing. Mountains. Cities. The smell of yuzu. Blankets. I'm actually kind of a fanatic about blankets. Have I written about that before? I don't think so. Well, there's a lot to say, so I'll have to save that for another time.
