First Winter

The air drastically changed this week. New York summer is soon to be bitter New York winter. The leaves are, as expected, drying out just like the cracked skin of my hands facing the first wave of indoor heating. My adjustment to soaking humidity is slowly being replaced by a new found fear of my first real winter. Snow isn't a commodity here. Temperatures below zero aren't uncommon. People actually wear scarves here for their insulating properties--not because they're "cute" like we do at home.

While the weather is in flux, my life is finally starting to become stable. I go to work and come home at the same time every day. I take the 1 train and the M79 bus across Central Park everyday. I see the sun rise through my curtains and watch the planes on their way to LaGuardia every night. These are miniscule things on an individual basis, but together form routines that establish a life and a sense of belonging that's been missing since I arrived here.

Only time will reveal how determined I am to make this my home.