burrowing in

Today felt like winter.

I don't know why, it was in reality a gorgeous day out there, but I didn't go out in it. I slept in and stayed in my pajamas all day. I'd say I did nothing, but that's not true at all; I actually started my Christmas shopping and I talked to some of my long-distance family members, too. A little cooking, a little cleaning, quite a bit of eating (pie, mostly.)

But I didn't want to go out today, and there was nothing that had to be done, so I stayed in, feeling snug.

It's weird how the feeling of winter can have no connection whatsoever to the actual weather conditions outside. Here, the oranges and lemons are finally ripening, after hanging on the tree for what has seemed like half a year. The golden lantana are in full bloom and look spectacular, and the winter Rye grass has come in, a cleaner, greener green than the blue-gray-green Bermuda grass we have in the summer. It doesn't look anything at all like winter out there, but some unreachable dial in my brain has ticked over to "winter," and so it is.