In apartment 2008/9, I slept up high, right next to a window. Each winter morning I'd hope that the sun had stolen winter away, and that the ice wouldn't be so frozen. I'd carefully poke a few fingers out to tug the kissing curtains apart. The cold and winter and dark would swirl into my small room and I'd hear the people cracking across the parking lot in their boots on their way to chilled cars and classes. I'd hear them laugh and talk. I felt boundlessly lonely then, on those mornings.
I'll tell you something though--something that I won't admit to ever saying if you bring it up in conversation--I'm almost wishing for the winter this year. I could welcome the quiet and comfort. And the hibernation--the chance to nestle for brighter, burning things.
Image: Monet, The Magpie (a favorite of mine)