Winter
Tuesday 13 June 2000
Sometimes it's just a calming influence at the end of a day to write here. Not even really knowing what I'm going to write, but letting my fingers move across the keyboard and seeing how the words come out.
It's been cold today and I've sat here, huddled by the heater working. The cats have come in and kept me company on occasion, then left to go chasing birds and mice in the cold day.
I love watching showers drift and move across the harbour, sheets of rain slowly moving across the water as the skies darken, and the lights on cars get brighter through the gloom. Deb said isn't it good to smell the woodsmoke on the cold winter's air as we walked up the path tonight. Cold has a smell of its own.
My feet are cold on the floorboards as I walk around the house in my socks. They'll warm up slowly in bed tonight, tingling under the covers. Deb snuggles up around me, laying legs and arms around me to keep warm, pulling in close to my body. Then we shift and I do the same to her.
Mornings are the coldest, padding out in the half-light of dawn, fumbling for lights and heaters and electric jugs. I heat Matthew's bottle up, and we snatch a couple of minutes of halfsleep as he drinks it. Then I'll make us a cup of tea and we'll drink that in bed, pulling the covers up around us as we sit up, sipping on the tea.
I like Winter. I like the feeling of cold on my skin, and dressing up warm, and listening to the wind and the rain at night. I like the smell of the air and the unexpected moments when shafts of sunlight flood the ground and make everything glow softly. I like watching the weather forecast on tv, and seeing how cold it will get, and if it's been snowing in the mountains. I like following the progress of storms as they travel up the country, scudding in from the south with lowering pressure and tightly packed isobars.
I'm all sleepy from writing this now. It's time to go snuggle.