hibernation season
Something happens in Portland every year around mid-October.
The sun disappears.
And it doesn't come back until June.
The temperature right now is one lonely degree above freezing. Frigid winds barreled into town a week ago, reminding me of everything I hated about winter back East....the steely daytime lighting, the face-slapping cold, the muscles sore from shivering, and the long, dead nights. Part of me always dies in the winter, just shuts down entirely.
This cold snap is unusually extreme, and soon enough it'll get ten degrees warmer and start rain, rain, raining for months. Since I do all my work at home, my apartment becomes a warm, cozy igloo. I'm a bear in a cave, a butterfly in a cocoon. Alright, maybe not a butterfly...
I could ignore the cold, close my eyes, and sleep for 24 hours straight if I wanted. Or take a hot bath. Or make some more oatmeal. It's too cold and wet and grey to go outside, so maybe I'll just boil up some tea and inhale the steam as it rises from the cup.
With all the bleakness, dread, and dulled senses that come with the Dark Months, I also slouch into a sort of solar-deprived narcotic bliss. There's something soothing about winter's finality. Right now, Cookie's cuddled up near a wall heater, snoring away. I'm sort of depressed, but also too listless to care about it. It isn't a bad feeling, really. I'll be happy when spring comes, but for now this is kind of nice.
