I learned early on that mid-November in Wisconsin is the beginning of the snow season, AKA hell. We had some flurries last week, and then last night we had a real shower....nothing out of the ordinary, but when my friend left our house last night there was a definite layer of snow on her car. My heart literally hurt to see it, because it's very beautiful, and yet so utterly ominous.
It was gone by the morning. I was surprised that I felt a little disappointed. That's the thing about snow--to some degree, I absolutely love it, and I love the winter. If winter lasted two months here, maybe even three, I think I could stand it. But after having experienced the euphoria of 'the first snow' last year, I know that what last night really meant was the beginning of four, maybe five, months of freezing, muddy, icy miserableness. In that light, it doesn't seem quite so lovely.
To be fair, the next month will probably not be miserable. Pre-Christmas ice and snow is kind of sweet and charming, and breaking out the boots and parka is kind of fun--for a little while. It's seasonal. People expect it, even look forward to it. But after the joys of the holiday season fade, we begin to grow weary...and then by late January we're all pretty crabby...and by the end of February, we're just pissed off...and by mid-March we've pretty much lost our will to live.
I know I need to live in the moment, to have a less negative outlook. Maybe this winter won't be as bad as the last. Maybe my *3.5 week (WOOHOO!!)* southwest sojourn will revive me and break up the winter just enough to get me through.
I will try to enjoy the winter this year. That's my goal. But I can't guarantee that my next five posts will not be about how much I hate the Wisconsin climate. I mean, seriously--it was 95 in El Cajon today. 95!!! I'm a desert creature. I'm still not entirely sure I'm made for this place.