Here is something to know about me and seasons: this was the 7th winter I’ve ever experienced, and the first one I made through successfully.
Since 2003, the prospect of cold and dark winters fills me with the most profound sense of dread. I never experienced cold weather, dark days, cabin fever, or suffocating layers of clothing before moving to New York. And since I didn’t grow up sledding, building snowmen or warming my toes by the fire, I don’t have any of the childhood nostalgia that carries everyone through the most frustrating and depressing parts of the season.
But I made it through this one pretty well. I went sledding for the first time, in a laundry basket in Ft Greene Park, and spent a night by myself wandering a Manhattan made empty and beautiful from a blizzard.