Because I am currently cold.

I had almost forgotten the sharpness of the cold or the way it seems to permeate more fully than even the hotness of middle summer. My house is intensely frigid. Colder than the outside where the sun can at least get in. I have found myself these past days fleeing to the outside to sit in the pockets of sunlight to let the rays take away the edge of approaching winter. I don't want to rant about the cold, but I am not exactly looking forward to winter.

I like the idea of winter, the snow, the holidays, the blankets and scarves and thick woolen bits of clothing. Yet I find the actualization of winter mainly cold. Cold and dark. I find myself at the beginning of Autumn exclaiming that it is my favorite season, but then I realize that Autumn leads to Winter and Winter feels a lot like death.