Dearest Rachel –
Between the fact that I spent the better part of an hour refusing to concede that I had bobbed to consciousness for the day, and the actual time I took collecting and arranging myself to walk the (now officially measured) third of a mile to the fitness center this morning, you’d think I would have had the opportunity to check the weather outside. Then again, if I had purposed to myself that I was going to go, why would I want to know? I know it’s going to be cold outside; it’s November in Chicago. Any further details would only discourage me from taking the next step that was already inevitable – what else was I going to do with the next few hours of darkness, with the boys still asleep?
All the same, I wasn’t quite prepared for the sight that greeted me when I opened the front door:
At the same time, I don’t know why it should come as any great shock, to me or anyone else. Like I said, this is just what happens at this time of year. Indeed, the screens at the fitness center yesterday were going on at one point about when the latest snowfalls (be it the first traces, the first dusting of 0.1 inch, and the first measurable inch in a single day – we’ve still got a while to go before we need to concern ourselves with the latter two) have hit us, suggesting that Mother Nature has been taking her own sweet time with it. Granted, that may have more to do with the lack of moisture (we almost made it through the entirety of October without a drop of rain – leave it to Gaia to spoil Halloween!) than any specific issues regarding temperature, but still…
And yet, I’m still taken aback, just like I and (I insist) everybody else is when they first see it. It’s hard visual proof that the seasons are changing, and life is going to get considerably colder (and stay that way) for some time to come. Up until now, we could stave off this admission; there was always the possibility of another period or two where things would warm up again for a day or two, and we could be reasonably comfortable outside, but no longer. We’ve crossed the zero line, at least in metric terms. Summer won’t be back for another seven months, and we need to resign ourselves to that fact.
While we do that, there’s also the need to look on the bright side of it all. It may be an uncomfortable walk, but that’s all part of maintaining the discipline. As I understand it, the body burns calories just in the effort to keep itself warm in the midst of this cold, so it will do me good to endure this discomfort; just as the act of working out is less than pleasant but builds oneself stronger, so too will this trek amid the cold. Moreover, after working up a thorough sweat, there’s something to be said about exposing oneself to the cold; it is a literal act of cooling oneself down. It’s not quite like jumping into a snowbank after a sauna like the Finns do, but it’s a start.
At least, I try to tell myself all this as I make my way back home. After all, at this point, I don’t really have much of a choice; I walked here, so now I have no choice but to walk back. At least it’s getting light out, even though it doesn’t seem to have alleviated the chill in the air. On the contrary, the wind is gusting every so often as I make my way back, and blows through my wet T-shirt like a collection of knives aimed at my chest. I suppose I should take it as a mark of respect that it assaults me to my face, but having the wind at my back would actually be welcome, as it would propel me home just that little bit faster. On top of it all, there is the occasional snowflake I have to brush away from my face. It’s not that big of a deal; like with the rain on a warmer day, I don’t mind them so much except on my glasses, as I don’t like getting them spotty. Still, if I keep my head down sufficiently, I think I can manage.
The house is so much warmer, and it’s so much more appreciated, once I get home. The hot shower is welcoming, too, and while I miss your dropping in to check on me (and so forth – I don’t need to go into detail, do I?), it’s still a fabulously welcome experience.
But after all that, and getting myself dressed and fed and ready for the real part of the day, I’m confronted with a new shock regarding the weather as I make to head to the ‘office’:
In short, this weather is proving to be considerably more of a shock than previously thought.
Now, to be fair, we’re still getting off lightly compared to some. Today’s news feed – what little I could watch in the gym before I had to remove my glasses due to excessive sweat – spoke of a “bomb cyclone” impacting almost the entirety of the west coast, while much of New England and the northern portion of the Appalachian region is getting inundated with rain and snow (which, given the wildfires that have sprung up in places like New Jersey and Massachusetts, might actually be considered welcome, to a point), depending on where one is. What we’re seeing here, while a bit of a jolt, even from yesterday, is fairly normal in comparison; while I might not like walking in it, especially clad in T-shirt and shorts, it’s not intolerable.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt for you to keep an eye on me, honey, and continue to wish me luck. I’m sure I’m going to need it. For one thing, I have to remember where I put our snow shovels at this point…
Letters to Rachel 