The wind off the harbor makes the 30-degree ambient temperature feel like 22 degrees, according to Weather.com. To us, out for our morning walk and not having a proper thermometer, it just felt shockingly cold. It’s only November, after all. Not yet Thanksgiving, even.
The wisteria went from green to brown and leafless over night. The last stubborn impatiens went limp. The rainwater collected in the flowerpots on the deck was frozen this morning. And it was dark by 4:30.
Even while part of my brain—the nostalgic part—keeps skipping off to thoughts of friends and family and food and fires in the fireplace, a different (and darker) part sees this sudden chill as symbolic of the country’s bad economic mood. There are fewer people on Newport’s sidewalks, fewer people at the mall in Providence. I’m sure there are fewer people in malls all across the country.
This is going to sting.
Well, historically winter coincides with death. If you were to monitor when funeral homes get there most work it is from January to the end of March.
As far as economy goes, it serves as a double whammy for people who already have seasonal depression.
But like all other things in life this too will pass.
I just finished the drive from Norfolk to IL via Atlanta and Nashville, and everywhere we’ve been has been unseasonably cold, although catching the tail end of autumnal colors through Appalachia was super.
I am finding this season is not as much fun when your toddler refuses to wear a hat. On the other hand, he’s seeing the world with an awareness he didn’t have as a 6-month old and none of our references or prejudices, so we’re both seeing it through all new eyes.