There is something romantic about the idea of winter. Beautiful crisp days, the sun reflected off of the white of the snow. Evenings sat by the fire cozy in your pullover and socks. Enjoying a wonderful casserole or stew, proper comfort food.
In reality winter round here is mainly just plain grey. Sometimes it is cold and you get dressed up in your scarf, hat and boots. Then a few hours later the temperature is pushing 15c. Maybe it is raining and you reach for your brolly, only to find the wind has blown up and your umbrella blows inside out. Rarely it snows, looks beautiful but is cold, wet and difficult to get about in. The snow freezes over night and you find yourself skating about in your regular shoes or boots. The car windscreen frozen. The trains delayed due to snow and ice.
This has been the weather here over the past couple of weeks. Snow, frost, greyness, rain, wind. Cold, mild, cold again, mild and so on. This is why I hate winter. The only thing that you can predict is that it won’t be light until 8am and low and behold it is dark by 4pm. In between anything can happen. Often it does.
I hate the short days. The way the central heating dries out your skin. I love to sit by a fire (not that I have one). But if you sit too close you are too hot and too far away too cold. I hate the lack of energy I have at this time of year. I hate the way that bed feels like a lovely warm place to sleep, but not much else. I long for summer and now the equinox has passed will be looking for signs of longer days. Of spring flowers and of a sign of new life.
Winter sounds fine in theory, but the reality is something else.