They say penguins huddle together to keep warm and rotate positions so each penguin gets a turn in the warm center of the group. Polar bears have stiff hairs that insulate and create traction on the ice and cold and tend not to leave their mates during birthing season. And in the Tundra, the coldest climate on Earth, the wind causes what plant life that can survive in the conditions to hold on to the stones and rock that surround the terrain.
We hide.
For twenty -five years I grew up in this. The temperatures that even make touching window glass painful are so easy to forget in those months where we sweat and die for air conditioning. You would think it would get easier. You would think putting on layers and covering your ears and watery eyes would be something you prepare for like Christmas or your birthday or tax season. But it never gets easy. Never.
Right now the hum of my steam heat reminds me of how quiet the cold can be too. People stay under covers and have fires in their fireplaces. Car honks are minimal and crowds of people who don't mind walking a few blocks to restaurants and bars drink at home or risk a cab ride. It's silent.
I think we have it all wrong. Like penguins or polar bears or even the moss that grows on rocks, we should totally depend on each other when it gets this cold. We should say: "Yo, let's huddle. Let's hug and stay warm!" Not that waiting for the bus would be all that pleasant if say some dude walked up to me and started huddling me to make sure I didn't freeze before the 146 bus made it to our stop. But the idea is nice. Or maybe the city in the cold is too scary for me.
I'll admit it. It's too quiet. Because, yes, I grew up with the cold but I always had a full house to snuggle in. My parents would order pizza(because it's never too rude to make a pizza guy go out in the weather!) and we would all grab blankets and fall asleep watching bad movies on the USA Network. And now, well, it's not like that. My apartment doesn't have a fire place and I don't have cable and I don't have a house full of people... or anyone else to cling to under the blankets... like I used to. It's just me. Sometimes that makes it even colder.
It's funny how the warmest thing can be the memories of the good in the coldest times.
