there’s a serious nip in the air this evening, the kind that instantly makes me shove my hands into their respective pockets. the only thing we can count on with our weather here is nothing – and several times a year i’m reminded of this reality. what we might boast as a native summer, bleeding sweetly into and combining itself with the autumn air, is quickly turned into the verge of snow and our breaths deep and wide spiraling visibly out of our mouths. and to say i dislike this reality isn’t entirely true. there’s a part of me that hungers and yearns for the brutality of weather. the juxtaposition of the sub-zero temperatures against a candle-lit, fire-licked interior is a medicine for all that tires and ails us.
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