Sixty-three degrees at 7:30 am.
Five degrees make such a difference, don't they? I turned the heat on and slid the kitchen window closed, both for the first time since early summer.
I rejoiced after reading that the maintenance staff had fired up the boilers at work. My office is notoriously chilly during the non-heater times of the year, and the last two weeks have been shivery. I'd taken to wrapping up in a silk pashmina, fleece jacket, and a light quilt. Hello, eccentricity! Now my office should be warm enough to sit and work without alarming students with my patchwork layers.
While I prefer fresh air and summer's natural heat, I also love burrowing into a warm room, tucked into a soft blanket, and sipping a mug of tea.
I'm a creature of fire rather than ice, and I'm ever thankful for the modern technology that provides warmth even as temperatures dip.
The evenings fall sooner, and the blues and a familiar shade of grey descend more easily. I seek out patches of sunshine and trees dipped in gold and crimson before surrendering to barren branches and frosty forests. And then, I kindle my own fires, paint my own rainbow.
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