“Marley was dead to begin with.” Okay, that is stolen directly from Dickens, but I did use quotation marks. I wanted a dramatic opening, and that is one of my favorites. Winter is holding sway was all I could come up with as my first line, and it’s a weak one. I wanted drama, I wanted a “Stella!” moment to describe the change in temperature.

It is now is 24° on the Cape and in the teens in Boston. The sunlight has a cold look, a sharpness, to it. The sky is a deep blue but its color lacks any warmth. When the breeze blows, I can feel it fly up my sleeves and down my neck. This is what I remember as being cold.

This is a bundle day, a pull out the afghan day and a nap under the warmth of the down comforter day. I’m going nowhere except upstairs for that nap. Earlier, I went to my usual Sunday breakfast. When the alarm went off, I jumped out of bed to turn it off then I jumped right back under the covers. I wanted to stay in that warm bed, and I know both Gracie and Fern hoped I would. They were warm cozy against me on opposite sides and didn’t move when I tried to get up. Finally I gave them no choice, and the three of us left the warmth of my bed.

The roads were empty this morning. I saw only a few cars, and after breakfast I saw some people walking into church. They were huddled together and bundled. Many of the old ladies wore long coats with fur around the collars. I suspect they also have boots at home in the closet, the kind which slip over shoes with clunky heels and are transparent. The hats they wore this morning were purely decorative.

I don’t have to ask today where winter has gone. I know exactly where it is.