I won’t lie. I like the idea of winter — love knowing that on any given morning, I may wake up to a snowy world. But the past couple days have been cold. Not particularly cold by, say, [Minnesota standards][minnesota], but then we Marylanders possess a weak constitution.
It’s what makes snow so magical, after all — we never expect it. We never _can_ expect it. We have winters that pass with a few dustings of snow on our lawns. We have New Year’s Eves that weigh in at a 60-degree high. Nothing is a given.
This — this is cold, and little else. I can’t get away from it. Spend my [day off][mlk] curled up on the couch with a blanket, wake up the next morning and scramble to put on real clothes. Yawn on the drive up and find that my arms start shivering. Wear a jacket inside, look out the window at bright blue sky with clouds so thin and small to be almost forgettable. Trees grown deep dead brown, grass that’s flat and yellow. And wish… for what?
Maybe just wish. Just hope.