Signs of Impending Winter

Tonight my winter coat was not enough to stop the bite of frozen breezes.  The wind comes only from the north now, sometimes in whispers, often in gusts, but no matter the speed the edge is razor-fine.  Gloves and woolen cap were pulled down from the shelf weeks ago, but still sat on my table most days; now they will inhabit pockets and bags, ready at a moment’s notice.

The first sign arrived weeks ago, a thin layer on windshields, the scraper pulled from my trunk and the dial turned to defrost.  Glorious days of sun and sixty shout an occasional reluctance to leave, gracing us with an afternoon of warmth that is quickly lost when dusk arrives.  Thermostats shifted from cool to warm bring again the crackle of static in clothes and the cracking of too-dry skin.

It is the beginning of the season of layers, of jeans and sweaters and boots.  The months of snow and ice and dark approach, when driving becomes treacherous and even walking the dog has hazards.  This year I am better prepared.  I recognize the signs, know the dangers, and have the tools to make it through.  There are more than two sweaters hanging in my closet now, my winter wardrobe replenished after a decade further south.

Winter is coming, the first waves lapping the shore hinting of the rising tide to come.

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