The crisp autumn air filters through the window, quietly adding a chill to the room. Cat sits on the windowsill, trying to catch the scent of a mouse in a distant field; imagining what it would feel like to hunt and kill. I pull the covers closer to my chin while still managing enough room to keep my hands free for reading. I am cold by nature, yet it is impossible for me to sleep in anything but an ice chest. I love October mornings when I wake up to a freezing cold room after a night of opened windows. It makes the bed a haven of warmth, curled up in my little spot, Cat as close to me as possible. Sometimes it's so cold, Cat forgets his Norwegian Mountain Cat roots and crawls under the covers with me, looking for the forgotten "dog" pile. I sometimes imagine him sensing I'm the best he's going to get in terms of a pack.
These mornings are my favorite. Especially when there is no rush to get out of bed. The warmth under the covers contrasts the cold, numbness of my face from a night of cool breezes slipping between the slats of the blinds. I throw the covers over my head, and let the heat from my own body, insulated and protected through the night, warm my face slowly. It's what I imagine an icicle feeling like as it melts away, minus the panic of knowing that as the sun rises, you will soon no longer exist. Cat is curled into the smallest ball of fur imaginable for something his size. He uses his velvety front paw to cover his nose, keeping it protected from the harsh cold. His tail wraps around his entire body, the only distinguishing features his eyes, and his incessant purring a constant reminder to his current status of being alive. I pull him closer to me, using him as the cat version of a space heater. There we lie, curled human around ferocious beast, using each other for warmth and company on the beginnings of a fall day in October.
The leaves on the maple tree outside rustle in the wind, whispering of the beautiful day that has begun, beckoning me to join it. Soft, white sunshine peeks through the window, paled from the earth shying away as winter approaches. Soon, I will leave the haven of my bed, run across the cold carpet and even more frigid bathroom tile to start a scalding hot shower. The steam will pour out like smoke, and encompass me. I'll stand in the shower until the water runs cold, and I'm left with wet hair and an ever shrinking towel to shield the cold air from pricking the water droplets on me. I enjoy knowing that I can slip into a sweater, letting it's embrace remind me of the warm bed that I started the day in. Hot apple cider, a mimic of the rolling steam from the earlier shower. The sun, warm and cold at the same time. Leaves excited at the prospect of me joining their autumn world.
