The rain came today, and everyone says this is it. I’m not so afraid as I was before: I’ve had a little epiphany, which is to take it day by day. Of course the thought of four or five or six months of gray skies and rain is daunting, but that is not all there will be. There will be fires and books and hot cocoa and costumes and concerts and nights in the sauna (there’s one here at the house, which is strange and wonderful.) I’ll fly down to Florida for a week, and maybe I’ll finally appreciate feeling the sun on my skin and my toes in the sand in November. I’m going to try to learn to ski. I can play board games and layer up and go for a walk and try new recipes and bake brownies and cookies and pies. Anyway, dreary rainy days are just right for feeling quiet and still. That’s what I’ll be, rather than sad. I have a rain coat and cozy hats and scarves and my trusty mittens; I will be okay.