Getting Dark.

Five o'clock and dark already, or close enough to say so. Dusk. Late evening before it's evening at all. We're staying cold here in the Triad, windy and chilly and raw and a reasonable facsimile of winter. More of this for Wednesday and Thursday, though slightly moderated: We may see fifty degrees one or both of those days. Damn near WeatherDeck weather, by comparison. Still: I remember early winter around here, ad you're supposed to be able to rake leaves in your shirtsleeves. You're supposed to be freaked out by the freakish warmth, at least the last five years or so, anyway. Keeps cold like this, or cool, anyway, and we might just end up getting daffodils in March, where and when they belong. We may escape the odd January fruit tree experiment we've been getting of late, where you round the corner and there's a cherry in bloom, or a plum. But I'm getting ahead of myself. This is just one cold snap. Surely we'll snap back. Surely, soon enough, we'll be worried about something other than seasonably wee temperatures.

I myself am feeling seasonably wee. Less light, maybe. Less evening. I myself am certainly less even. All for now, friends and fans of weather. Go cut a light or two on. Cozy up the place. Find somewhere to settle in. This bleak mood will pass. Ride it out. Find a book. Find a mug. Find a glass.