Winter - By Hedwig

One of the last things I considered an obstacle to my moving a distance that could encompass at least one European country was weather. I had known of summers that peaked at 48 degrees but winters that were less cold and more humid. Never mind that, I would still take out the one sweatshirt I owned and pretended to know what experiencing all four seasons felt like. Now that I have moved, and have implicitly agreed to braving another three winters, at least I have an improved resistance to cold weather – probably the sole legacy of my move to the North.

Winter has come. Ned Stark was right. And what a cold winter it is.

The idea I have of winter

Is one of twenty degree days,

Chic sweaters seen on Tumblr,

Artsy enough, slightly frayed;

Mugs of steaming tea

That stay inexplicably warm

No matter how cold it gets it’s hygee,

And no matter however long;

A bit of rain makes perfection

If I can stare at it out of a window

The sound of it hitting glass

Is comforting when I’m indoors;

Fog in the morning is inspiring

To create art in whatever form,

But if it’s less than ten degrees

Then it’s what I need protection from;

And so, I thought

I could manage winter

And all its misgivings,

Turns out I only like the cold

When I’m warm enough for

Comfortable living.