Winter of our discontent.

Winter descended on us this past week, not on cat's feet like Carl Sandberg's fog, but on grey skies and a cold southeast wind. I am so not ready for…

Winter descended on us this past week, not on cat's feet like Carl Sandberg's fog, but on grey skies and a cold southeast wind.

I am so not ready for winter this year.

It's not that it is unexpected. This is the beginning of October, and winter could have arrived anytime from the end of August on. This is the High Arctic after all, it is the wrong place to live if you aren't expecting to experience winter.

I'm just not ready. My blood isn't adapting and it feels colder than before. I've got renovations to do, and have to do a lot of the sawing etc outside. My yard still isn't emptied of the previous owner's belongings and I need to get my shed and stash of lumber here in their place. And my loon is gone, the ponds are frozen.

On the other hand, my new exterior doors are in, and the house already feels warmer. My blood will adapt and I'll eventually switch to anticipating the arrival of migrant birds instead of feeling hollow that they're gone. And I still have Ravens to entertain and accompany me.

But the sky is grey, and the ocean is a colder grey. Perhaps a few sunny days before we lose the Sun in a month's time will get me ready, get my blood adapted for the winter that has pounced upon me.

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