I participated in Canadian Black Friday with the purchase of a single, soft light grey sweater that makes me feel like I can handle any type of weather. It’s unflattering and I want to give people hugs while wearing it.

I broke it in on a night walk last night down to a little village, past warm pubs and Thai restaurants. I skirted the edge of the park then walked into the loveliest dense grove of trees, feeling my boots sink into the decaying leaves and natural debris, then running smack into an enormous group of very well dressed people at a conference for something leaving a fancy hotel, who gave me odd looks as I emerged from the trees in the dark, red-cheeked and wild-eyed, walking at my usual fast pace.

This morning’s walk was crisp and frost-covered. I walked something like 7 miles along the ocean, feeling the cold Arctic breeze that has been blowing in for the last few days. I let the cold envelope me utterly, loving it far more than the seeping, creeping dampness that is so much more insidious and omnipresent here.

The tidal pools were crystal clear, full of anemones and seaweed waving with the currents. Sea glass was collected, rubber boots came in handy when I stepped into the actual ocean to retrieve a piece or two, and the sun seemed obnoxiously bright. Little sea birds cheeped and made noises like video games (I need to Google what kind they were, note to self). I saw some sort of dark hawk perched (also Google) on a branch and dozens of crows (technically, they were not together or I would have called them a murder with delight). There were pauses to take pictures of myself, as part of a years-long negotiation with my corporeal form, which has not photographed well for as long as I can remember.

]The sun rises fast, shines bright, and sets quickly, but does not imbue us with the warmth it did. It’s not even an argument of quality over quantity- we don’t get either. I feel like a fleeting shadow of a girl, living in various shades of darkness with the lack of present sunlight. My skin is growing paler and my freckles, which were so bright this summer, have begun their annual fade. I have constant hat hair due to rotating between 4-5 trusty caps, and the mittens my mother sent me have not yet been lost. 7 days until I pack up all these layers and move them back to Montana for a month.

Now, time to write papers and prepare a presentation for Monday. Have a great weekend y’all.