I came back from a walk about half an hour ago, and thanks to a reheated cup of coffee (Holiday Blend is back!) a plate of leftover rosemary & thyme potatoes and a bowl butternut squash soup, my fingers have just about thawed out.
I walked through the Sellwood Park and down into the Oaks Bottom Wildlife Refuge and occupied my mind with thoughts of Lantern Waste and bad puns about the wildlife refuge – things like “she took refuge in the” …oh never mind.
I thought it was cold last week, but it really hit this week. Last week I went to the park with some toddlers and I don’t even think I wore a scarf. Today I went out to check the temperature – and then put on my black wool coat (instead of the lovely red wool coat which now seems impossibly light compared to the black one), a scarf, a hideous fleece cap, and thinsulated gloves.
You know that feeling when you’ve been walking in the cold, all brisk to keep yourself warm, and you stop to admire a view and can feel each blood cell moving s l o w l y through your fingers? When the movement distracted you before, but now you just feel your body reacting to the cold? I love it. And then I turned around and walked uphill and my legs cried out with joy. Exercise! Cold! Heavy coats!