Is it just me who grew up surrounded by friends who preferred summer to winter? Summer is great and all, but lying in the sun quickly becomes tedious; there’s no sense of festivity, and long drawn out days tend to lead to lethargic boredom. There’s no uniting event to look forward to, no growing sense of joy through the turn of the season. Summer is fine and all, but it doesn’t compare to winter.
There’s nothing I look forward to more than cold wind on my cheeks, chilly noses, fluffy coats and scarves, people huddled up, snowy breath-clouds. I walked into my local HEMA last week to be greeted with wall-to-wall Christmas decorations; golden glittery reindeers, shimmery scarlett baubles, pine tree ornaments, tinsel, soft glowing lights, chocolate, happiness.
October onwards gives you neat little stages to look forward to; the comforting orange-glow of autumn, crackling leaves, pumpkins, warm woolliness; Halloween, with its promise of silly movies and larking with friends and stuffing your face; fireworks night, with bobbly hats and oohs and aahs and sprinklers and bright, exploding happiness; and the glorious buildup to December.
Cold weather means warmer indoors, the excuse for fires and splashing out on hot chocolates and coffees, cuddled-up indoor merriment, being packed into cafes, restaurants, living rooms, markets with your friends and loved ones. It means red wine, interlinking arms, smiling shopping strangers, hearty laughs with families, defending brussell sprouts, drooling over M&S food brochures, sobbing at the John Lewis Christmas advert. It’s biting into a hot mince pie as you watch your favourite christmas film, sneaking around to buy your secret santa present, treating your loved ones.
I will defend winter to the death over Summer. I can’t wait for the next few months of being my best self. Stockholm Christmas markets, here I come.