This morning I was chatting with That Girl (funny how ‘chat’ has been completely redefined in the age of the internet). We were talking about being together, which we are not right now, and we got to discussing the unique together-vibe that every room carries when we are together. Some rooms you can probably predict the nature of the vibe, while others are uniquely us. (Even the predictable places have our own resonances, of course, our own history and traditions layerd on top. It was fun to think about those things, and play with the unique vocabulary we have developed, shortcuts to memories. But this episode isn’t about rooms, it’s about seasons.
I’m sitting right now at Little Café Near Home, and behind me, outside the window, cars are hissing past on the wet pavement. It has been raining, one of those rains that chills you from the center out, makes you dream of tropical places or warm fires. It is the perfect weather to film a cough drop commercial, except that the crew would be miserable.
Then, a few minutes ago the pitter-pat of the rain disappeared and I looked out and it was snowing. Still cold, still wet, but snowing. And somehow that made it all better. Not just better, but good. We have moved from the cold, dry nights of autumn, with leaves skittering in the vagrant wind, down the hallway of uncertain weather to arrive at winter.
One of Prague’s graces is that she wears all the seasons so well, with unreserved intensity. I love the old girl at times like this, when she puts on her new outfit and spins for inspection. She’s donned her winter apparrel a thousand times before, but every time she does, it’s new. (I suspect that there are very few locals who would agree with me on that one.)
The rain turns to snow, dusk arrives at midafternoon. Indoor time. Cuddling weather, time for camping under a toasty tent for two. Prague would be perfect, but she lacks two things: a fireplace (this remains the greatest mystery of czech culture to me — cold weather, buildings that don’t burn, and no fireplaces) and That Girl. Next winter I will be in a place that includes That Girl, and ideally a fireplace here and there as well.