In Cambridge, we had an unusually warm week: September 14-21. I took full advantage of this rare weather, temporarily hanging up my fall jacket and scarf, and levitating towards the warm weather clothes. A week prior, I regretted bringing these clothes when I was greeted by cold winds upon exiting the London Airport.
I took full advantage of this warm weather, and during that week I visited Cambridge University Botanic Garden, enjoyed a boat ride on the River Cam, and took a trip to London, grateful that I did not have to pull my jacket with me. That week’s weather was entirely uncharacteristic of England, a country where if it isn’t cold, it’s freezing.
Every time I mentioned the weather, I was warned that I should enjoy it while it lasted because there would be no more warm, sunny weeks for the rest of the year. Soon, I was told, the sun would sleep for longer, taking her warmth and light, until eventually it would be dark outside at 4 p.m. I’m not worried about this. I’ve lived on the East Coast my entire life and I’m no stranger to making my way back home from school with only the streetlights and shop lights illuminating my path.
I wouldn’t describe the weather as “miserable” as most people might suggest. I stopped trying to answer, “What’s your favourite season?” long ago. Unfortunately, my favourite season is always the one that isn’t happening. During the summer, I’ll crave the decorative atmosphere of winter; in the winter, I’ll miss the simplicity of the summer.
Now, at my sit spot, I look over at the pond. I wonder when the water will begin to frost and if it will freeze over completely. How thick will the ice be? Will it be strong enough for a squirrel to walk across it? There are fewer squirrels than there were my first week here. I like seeing them around because they remind me of home. I haven’t felt a strong wave of homesickness yet but soon when the squirrels retire to their dens, I’ll have to find a new reminder of home. Or maybe, the brisk, winter air will be enough to remind me of where I’m from.