Relative Winters

LIZ SAYS: One of the unexpected consequences of Dick’s return visit to Wisconsin was constant talk about the weather.
Winter is Wisconsin is very clear. Its crisp, snowy bright and very, very cold.
Winter in Paris? They don’t write songs about it for a reason. The City of Lights is not the City of Light. It is very, very gray. In the depths of late November and December the days are mostly dark. I have had to turn the lights on in the morning because otherwise, it seems like twilight. It’s very strange, the effect of the lack of light drives people out. I suspect the cafe culture was spawned by the desire to get out and cheer up.
I bought a light box at the suggestion of my doctor. It was a good idea. Sitting in front of it reminds me of the light streaming in to the windows of our house in Madison. Light bouncing off the beautiful white snow. I remember, when we went outside, noticing our transitional lenses getting dark from the sunlight while our nose hairs were freezing. It was easy to take for granted. Sunlight, beautiful bright sunlight bouncing off snow.
If it snows in Paris, people are amazed at the beauty of the flakes falling. It hardly ever ‘sticks’. It melts once it hits the ground most of the time. If it does stick, its a national emergency. It is a little different outside of Paris, I think they get real snow in the country, but here in the city its all very fantastic. It’s almost cute, like a snow globe, compared to Wisconsin.
But, when the sun does begin to reappear, at first once in 10 days, then once in 4 days, everyone goes for a walk.
Nowadays, there are lots of walkers because the sun is coming out more and more. Once Dick was back for a week, he started wearing gloves again and stopped saying, “this is nothing compared to Milwaukee!”.
I still use the light box, but I am beginning to think about sunscreen a little more.