We were leaving co-op yesterday and the skies looked like snow. I love gray days.
Today, a drizzly damp. I'm still in my crazy pants
and wearing a cardigan and lined boots. My nose is cold. I'm drinking a hot cup of Colombian coffee, with cream. I love the coming of winter.
Koselig, a term borrowed from an article I just read in Fast Company, implies coziness.
Next week, flues cleaned and wood ready to burn. It's burning season. And woodsmoke smells. And roasting marshmallows if we can scootch the dog away from the prime seat long enough to brown them.
A friend posted a map that suggests a snowy winter over our part of the country. (Like.)
I love being home, with a fire, with my people, even if it means home projects (haha)--it also means home and woods walks with a camera, and snowflakes and sledding. It means hot chocolate and chunky infinity scarves and the hat that Nora gave me for Christmas one year.
The very secret of enjoying a long winter might well be a secret to enjoying life.