Fading Lights
The first day of Winter brings with it a bitter-sweet chill which permeates each layer of clothing the same as if it weren’t there. The sensation reminds me of childhood, and the mornings spent preparing my body to withstand the extreme cold beyond my front door - layering more and more clothes in intricate fashions as to barricade and diminish the cold and its awful effects. Those memories are filled with a nostalgiac haze, reminiscient of the season’s discolouration - greyer and bluer than any other season and so much more surreal.
It has always been the faintly tinged light of winter that alerts me to the first snowfall and all that comes with it. It is as if the colour alone is enough to convince me to cover up and defend against the ghastly creeping cold - foreshadowed the long and winding winter, a stark contrast to the year’s warmer months leading up to it. All things must come to an end, it reminds us. All must sleep, and all must recouperate for their yet-distant rebirth come Spring. A yearly reminder of lifes finitude, and its changing forms.
It isn’t that I dislike winter, nor that I ever did, but rather it is a feeling of hollowness I can nary describe that seems to be one and same as winter. The season itself permeates all who find themselves within it, and upon delving into those people, it becomes them. People in general seem to be more distant during the winter months, their faces sheltered and hidden from strangers passing, their forms smothered under pounds of cloth, and their voices muffled through snowy scarves. People become recluse, and their energies seemed diminished - as if everyone is tired. I know I feel tired.
The coldest season brings with it, however, the warmests moments of the year. Nothing can quite compare to the sensation of downing a boiling mug of frothy, milky, hot cocoa, just to bare the foamy mustache branding the accomplishment. And Fire - it seems ever more powerful during this season - a last true bastion of hope amidst the snowy abyss. And nothing is quite as romantic as cuddling under a warm blanket, hypnotized by the fire, with anothers warmth being all that matters for those brief moments - holding each other close and feeling the faint tremblings of their beating heart and rhythmic breath. It is these very moments which defy the nature of winter, and provide a glimpse into the nature of us. Our dreams ride on these moments, and nothing bonds people together, as a shared moment inside a warm house, whilst a blizzard rages beyond thin panes of glass.