It seems silly to write about cold weather in January in Vermont. It’s cold! Of course it’s cold. But since yesterday was the first day I’ve ever seen school canceled because of the cold, I feel justified in sharing just a few thoughts about it.

When it’s this cold, it’s hard to imagine hot weather. I was reading something to John the other day about people on some adventure in the woods, and he commented that they must be cold. It was summer in the book, but it’s so very winter here that our brains can’t form that other image.

When it’s this cold, the sun is shining but you can barely tell. For me, this is the biggest difference between cold here and cold down south. The sun is gorgeous – just glinting off the snow like diamonds – but it isn’t warm.

When it’s this cold, it pains me to take off layers for any reason. I’m walking around the house in a heavy scarf — sometimes a jacket — because I put them on to go out and once they’re on, I can’t bring myself to do without them.

Along those lines, if it was possible to shower wearing a wool sweater, I would do that. Instead, I bring clothes as close to the shower as possible, minimizing the time that I will be without three shirts and a scarf. Strategery.

The crazy thing about this is that I would choose this cold over the slightly warmer but drippy, melty weather in March. I’d choose it 100 times out of 100. The snow is dry instead of messy. The air is sharp, not heavy. Thirty below zero is ridiculous, but I have really, really good mittens and scarves – both outside and in.