Real winter, with unkind skies and chilly temperatures, arrived here in the Northeast, as we knew it would, right after Christmas. Sort of a Gift of the Magi without a sales receipt so no refunds and a very difficult exchange policy.
It had been incredibly glorious weather-wise until then in many of these parts, I read in some places the warmest December since Hades started franchising or something to that effect, so kvetching or complaining is uncouth.
I really liked it and didn't expect it to last but was sad when it ended. On the other hand, when you live where we have all four seasons, we tend to get them. Sometimes chronologically, sometimes alphabetically, sometimes by height. But they all show up if you hang on long enough.
It was nearly forty yesterday morning when I awoke (it's a habit of mine bordering on a resolution: I make it a point to get up on the first day of the new year and for some odd reason that makes getting up all the other days that much easier to do) and I walked to the Norwich Harbor.
The Harbor is the confluence of the Yantic and Shetucket Rivers that form the Thames River which flows into the Long Island Sound. I love offering the long explanation; I sound a little like Lewis and Clark especially if you think by Lewis I mean Jerry Lewis.
I would have been happier with a nicer first day of the year; it makes the other 365 that follow a bit easier to handle, but it is what it is. The days are already starter to get brighter earlier and stay light longer, which for a Seasonally Affected Dolt such as I, is very good news indeed. The struggle is real so don't let it bring you down.