Winter settles in like a blanket

For the second year in a row, the trees have not lost their leaves before heavy snow has fallen. It's a weird phenomenon, as if the trees missed their cue and have rushed onto the stage last-minute wearing their street clothes. Others I'm in contact with around the continent say the same thing is happening in their areas.

The freezing rain clings to the brown leaves, weighing down branches, looking incredibly beautiful. The leaves are slowly beginning to fall now, on top of the snow, which clogs the snow blower. The city snowplow has scooped up a great heap of sodden leaves and dumped it on my sidewalk. It will be a mess to clean up in the spring.

I find I can't get too worked up about it. I stand in the bay window in my living room and watch the snow drift past the street light like cottonwood seeds and can't seem to get up the energy to put on my boots and go contend with it. My tabletop loom has been standing, strung and ready, for a week, but I have no desire to weave. I have some buttons to sew on and a shirt to fix...and somehow it never seems to happen. I have put off cleaning the house for a week. I finished my book and found myself reluctant to go to the library, of all things---how can that be? And then yesterday it dawned on me.

Ah yes. It's winter now. And I can feel the old, familiar depression begin to sift down over my shoulders like the snow, smothering, obliterating. Ah yes, I remember this, and I can recognize it now. And---like every year---I'm surprised that I am surprised by it. Surely I should see it coming by now, but every year it sneaks up on me without my noticing at first.

It's dark in the mornings now. It's dark when I get home from work. The relentless putting on of layers of clothing and the taking off again. The endless drip of mucky boots on the tile floor. The thought of a salad for lunch losing its appeal, replaced by dreams of thick stew and buckets of hot chocolate. (There's no point in dieting in winter.) The reluctance to venture out to store or church or the office, or to even make a phone call. The battle with Brio, who really really wants to go for a walk and play Frisbee even if there's no light and it's icy under foot. And don't forget the wolfy-thing that's lurking out there somewhere who will think Brio is a bedtime snack.

I have compiled a list of things to do to keep myself occupied and off the couch in winter. Things like walking at the mall and taking a class and going to swim at the community centre. I will find something on that list to do...as soon as I can get up the energy to dig out the list.

I want to cocoon. I want to pull a blanket up around my ears and watch endless episodes of Longmire and home renovation shows. I want to live on a diet of homemade bread and vanilla pudding and caramel popcorn. I don't want to see or talk to anyone until April.

Maybe it's a good thing I have work dragging me out to the bus and subway every day. Maybe it's a good thing I am expected at church to direct the hymns. And I know it's good that I have Brio, who will insist I get off the couch and pay attention to him. We all need someone who will pull us kicking and screaming back into life.