It’s snowing.

Not right now, but it will be soon.

I had almost convinced myself, after an incredibly mild December, that winter might never arrive. Christmas Eve’s remarkable warmth dared me to take a dip in the pond near my parent’s house. I made it to the water’s edge, dressed only in a swimsuit. It was surreal to stretch out on the bank, the trees stripped bare, a lone canoe lazily crossing the widest part of the pond. Like Christmas in July, but the other way around.

The water, too cold, betrayed this summer fantasy.

Back on Nantucket, in late October, I went to my regular beach after work one exceptionally warm afternoon. I hadn’t expected to swim until I saw one of the 80-year-old women I know from hanging out at the beach. She’d just been in the water. Now she was leaning against the sun-drenched wooden wall that separates our public beach from the neighboring private club.

It was cold, she said, but it’s one hell of a long winter ahead of us.

I hope you’re ready for the snow.