How to Get Through Winter in Ten Thousand Simple Steps

When I was a kid seasons happened on TV. Christmas meant rain only a little colder with winds threatening to frost the window if the sea was feeling spiteful. I can remember distinctly that my jacket was only useful for the first hour of the day and that the sun would warm up the wet ground by recess.

When I moved to Las Vegas in fifth grade not a whole lot changed about winter. It was somewhat less hot and sweaters were still mostly useless. In tenth grade I brought a giant coat to school one day in December and kept it in my locker until June. It was a real pain in the ass riding the bus home the last day of school with what looked like polar bear fur bunched up in my lap.

When I cam to Utah I saw snow falling for the first time. I remember being barefoot and standing in the Juniper lobby. Hesitant like an animal and shivering. I held out my hand and watched a snow flake melt in my palm. Then another and another; I didn't feel the cold until the wet snow seeped through the bottom of my jeans.

Later that night we rolled a giant ball of snow up the hill across from Juniper Hall and watched it swell as it rolled back down.

A year later I curled up on my first decent boyfriends' mattress, wet from the snow and shivering. My hair was moist and still frozen in places around my ears. I remember thinking about the subtle way a house changes in winter. It closes around our voices;and amplifies our affections. It is a kind of cradle in the dark and people come to agreements and love and sundering, too.

I don't date very often, but when I do it generally happens in winter. I'm more pliable; less reluctant to touch when my skin is cold. It's like my natural frigidity is softened by the falling snow.

So I've been feeling a little lonely and a little colder lately. That's all, just thought I'd say so.