Today I walked around in the cold, wet neighborhood. I trudged through piles of cold, wet leaves on campus. It was cold. It was wet.
I realized I don’t mind cold, and I don’t mind wet, but I don’t like cold, wet days at all.
But the beauty of cold, wet, dreary days is that you arrive home, chilled, damp and miserable to a warm house where you can put the kettle on the stove and drink hot tea all afternoon. You can wrap up in warm sweaters and blankets and fight off the cold, wet day.