this is kale for winter survival

Winter is coming quickly. The wind's edges are sharper, dusk falls earlier, and the golden light fades into a grey palette. The arrival of winter has never been easy for me. This became especially true when I moved to New England from California and learned the importance of wool socks and leather gloves for the first time. From November through April, until all the snow had finally thawed and we could go down to the Charles River and sunbathe in what felt like a tropical 60 degrees, winter swaddled my mind and my heart. Sometimes it felt more like smothering.

It takes a hardy Californian to bear the tantrums of New England winter. One winter I made a nightly routine of drinking hot chocolate and eating a big bowl of popcorn while listening to Joni Mitchell's Blue on repeat. In our living room, my best friend and I would lay in our hammock (our "couch") together or paint and re-paint our coffee table, whose layers of pigment were like the growth rings of redwood trees, histories of sadness and joy.

Read the rest of this post at Eat This Poem, where I guest-posted last week about Jordan Davis' poem "Kale" and my favorite little espresso bar in the Mission. There's a recipe for the best kale salad ever too! 

this is the smell of smoke and trees

*After a month-long winter vacation (perhaps the last official one I'll ever have), I'm back in Boston, where winter has begun. Despite the mild temperatures through December, winter never lets you off the hook. California was kind to me and I saw sun almost everyday I was home. Yesterday it started drizzling a little, just as I was leaving, and today in Boston it snowed at least several inches. When you're walking in snow, you only have one thought: your destination. But I'm hoping for a short winter, if anything. Everyday my roommate and I talk about how we are going to brave winter and list all our coping mechanisms for doing so, which include (1) buying a houseplant (2) decorating our room (3) considering (but never actually buying) a UV solar lamp (4) drinking glogg (5) learning persistence.

*I've taken the liberty to combat winter with the help of candles, pretty little aromatic things - this brand first introduced to me a few years ago by my friend Julia Frakes. When I went to the Diptyque store, I asked for only musky, woodsy scents. Nothing floral, nothing girly. The two I picked are very distinct but in their difference they complement one another. One is Feu de Bois, which smells like campfire, and the other is cypres or cyprus. The latter is fresh and clean, though woodsy; the former is the smell produced when you burn the substance of the latter. These are the smells I'll remember (what will hopefully be) my last winter in New England by.

this is morning light

*As a California native, enduring the New England winter is no easy task. On mornings when I wake up and there is golden light pouring through the windows in a little nook of my room, I feel like it's going to be okay, even if it is only 20 degrees outside. At least there is a little sunshine, and in my room, where it's warm, I can imagine how brilliant it's going to be when winter passes and spring finally arrives.

this is a bon hiver

*This is one of the snowiest winters Cambridge has seen for a long time. There are mountains of snow everywhere, and walking to class has become a treacherous sport.

*Winter is here to stay for a good while. snowstorms have become weekly occurrences...

*Some days we are lucky enough to have a little bit of golden sunshine, but even then the snow banks do not melt.

*On dreary, grey days, when going outside feels like a death sentence, it is nice to just stay in my pajamas all day and sit on my bed drinking hot tea.

*Christmas spice tea from Fortnum & Mason, Italian lemon honey (miele di limone), and a hand-painted saucer from South Africa.