The phrase ‘Winter is Coming’ has become a kind of standing joke with my brother and even with some of my friends. Whenever someone innocently says “winter is on its way” or, indeed, “winter is coming” in reference to the actual weather, it’s hard not to highlight the Game of Thrones’ catchphrase.
It’s true that in this country we don’t have much of an autumn or spring season, but we do normally get a week or two when you can feel the change of season. However, this year, there wasn’t much time to talk about winter’s arrival when it was already upon us. One day, we were joking and saying “winter is coming” and, the very next day, it was “winter is here”.
Honestly, I’m not a fan of winter. Of course, in theory, I must admit that it sounds very cosy and idyllic. Who wouldn’t want to be in a log cabin surrounded by a snowy forest while snuggling under the covers and sipping hot chocolate next to a crackling fireplace? I mean, if that’s all winter involved – and you could literally hibernate in hot cocoa heaven for the winter months – then I’d be all for it.
However, the reality is far different.
Sure, there are people who claim to love winter. However, in my experience, these people are usually the ones who walk around the entire season in shorts and a T-shirt and profess that it’s not cold – and even state that the weather is nice and refreshing. Huh? Granted, these people probably have polar bear blood, which explains a lot. However, I’m afraid my genes are sans polar bear blood, so I just can’t relate.
In fact, if I had to describe winter, I’d have to say that I feel more like a shaved cat that’s been thrown into the Arctic Ocean. It’s not a pretty picture and the truth is that I never feel quite warm enough in the winter season.
Winter to me spells being virtually buried beneath a pile of blankets when I go to bed at night – and then, inevitably, having to crawl out into the icy morning air. It means wearing layer upon layer of clothing and walking around like the tubby, roly-poly Michelin Man or, alternatively, freezing your behind off. It’s highly uncomfortable having to wear up to six layers of clothing at any given time, but it’s that or be cold – and if you get an itch, good luck trying to scratch it through all those layers, because it’s virtually impossible. Winter is cold feet and cold hands, misty morning breaths, an icebox car that refuses to start, bracing the constant chill in the air, trying to avoid cold water and dealing with shorter days and extended darkness.
Yes, I could live without winter.
That said, it’s widely held that winter is fairly mild in our country and, for all intents and purposes, it’s quite short. So, I actually can’t complain. And, while I may not have the luxury of underfloor heating or heated towel rails, at least I’m not trying to survive the cold out on the streets.
Besides, if Game of Thrones is anything to go by, winter could be far, far worse for all of us. It could bring a hoard of White Walkers and wights and then the cold would freeze more than just our bones.
It’s true, I don’t like winter. There’s nothing cosy or snug about it. However, at least, there’s some consolation in knowing that summer will come again to thaw the frost and melt the ice, which has all but captured my heart in the icy winter months.
Audrey Whyte 
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