Typically, the first sign of winter I look for is the warm colors of the peppermint mocha ads lining the 7-11 windows. Brown and red, with black, block lettering and an image of a welcoming, obviously touched-up photograph of a cup of coffee topped with a perfectly ridged swirl of whipped cream. My eyes tend to close at the sight of that sign, and I remember the first winter I ever had one of those unhealthy, addictive liquid fuel. Then there's the tell-tale sign that Mott Community College is ready for the winter months. The daily black bear I see as I log onto my web mail has turned into a snowy white polar bear. David pulls out his sweat pants and puts away the basketball shorts, pulls out his lumber jack hat and puts away his band shirt and opts for a heavier batch of shirts, some so worn that I have to squint and tilt my head just to figure out what music festival this one is from. And then there's the not-so-wonderful signs that I never look forward to. Frozen fingertips as I wait impatiently in my car at 6:15 on a Monday morning on my way to bake shop. The crunching of my brakes as my tires slide across the intersection, my knuckles turning a lovely shade of ghost white as my heart slams inside of my body. Going into class while it is barley daylight and going home when it is just past daylight. Scraping my knuckles on ice as I try to pry the driver side door open that doesn't open thanks to a wind storm last winter.
But oh, I love the lights of Frankenmuth. The glittering of lights in the snow at night as I drive home. The thrill of seeing the little girls in their beautiful, fluffy dresses, waiting eagerly to see Santa and tell them their mile long list of things they want as their parents quietly calculate how many paychecks they need to dedicate to this Christmas.
I can wear normal clothes without sweating like I've just ran a five mile race. Scarves and hats to hide behind. Boots and jeans without being warm. And warming my hands around that unhealthy, delicious, not nearly as perfect looking peppermint mocha.
