is one of my favorite things about cold weather.
The weather during the day was a cool 75 degrees, but its the nights that make me smile.
I love my late-night drives in 58 degree darkness, with my cars headlamps as my only guiding light back home. I love wearing a scarf, long-sleeve and a jacket and sticking my arm out the window while I’m hypnotized by Sigur Rós’ hopelandic.
My hand begins to feel the consequences of the rushing wind as it becomes more and more numb and a faux rigor mortis sets in. My teeth clench uncontrollably, but I smile and close my eyes for as long as I can whilst trying to maintain the car in the lane.
My body shakes a little from the cold. I initially fight it, but I love that I can feel the cold again and welcome the shudders. This is what I need. To be able to feel the cold and know that I can live through it.
I bring my hand back in at the last possible second. The blood already starts rushing back in, trying to warm the freezing skin and bones. For about half an hour afterward, I can still feel my blood trying to warm me. It feels so good.
God speaks to me at those moments. I can feel God rushing to warm me like my blood rushes to warm my hand after the cold. After the rigor mortis. I can feel God rushing through me right then, under all those layers that I’m wearing and under all those burdens that I’m carrying.
The nights. They’re why I love the cold weather.
