When the days are short and the nights are cold...

We know it's winter. But this year, May though it is, we were not convinced.

It's been like that for the last few weeks. The winter wardrobe was out already...washed and dusted and sun-dried almost. The leggings and scarves brought a dash of colour to my otherwise drab closet. The cute little hand knitted caps flaunted those flawless patterns we often see on knit-books. The black leather boots...the one I picked up from the Myer sale...the one that had the pretty laces near the calves...stood up straight, promising to keep me warm and comfortable...and also secretly assuring me that I need not shave my legs all that often.

The personalised twin thermos flasks that we kiss every morning, all through winter, all through our drive to work, till the last drop of coffee is licked from the lid...lay on the kitchen bench top....spotless and unsipped since last winter.

The electric blankets were fitted but not connected to the power sockets yet. The ugly stand-fans were replaced with the cosy room heaters that had not been brought to life either. They stood there waiting to show off their radiance and light.
The stage had been set. Yet there was something missing.

So while we were all asleep last night, the Heavens sprinkled some dressing on Earth. Magic fingers hovering over the masterfully cooked dish that lacked just a bit.

Yes, that’s what the first rains felt like.
Welcome winter.