In Washington DC, Fall has arrived.
The seasons were more similar than different in London. With the more frequent, but not overwhelming, occurrence of rain there, I began thinking more about shoes (for some reason, I rarely notice dress shoes in the U.S.). Specifically, I concerned myself with the likelihood of my shoes getting wet and perhaps damaged during my walks to and from work. One pair of casual boots I’d purchased weathered the rain well, their surface dusking over time like an aging human being.
I don’t remember winter’s approach. The temperatures cooled somewhat, but not intolerably so. London sits at a favorable position in the jet stream current — the winds dip down from the north and west and across the city as they make their way towards the European continent. As a result, the city is actually much warmer than you’d expect.
In late January, the city fell beneath the spell of a rare heavy snowfall. I took off to Islington in the north of the city and met two friends at a wine shop called The Sampler. We topped up a pre-paid card with about 15 quid each and set about the roomy shop sampling quarter and half glasses of wine. Mostly whites. Warmed significantly after 45 minutes, we walked to a nearby Italian restaurant and watched through the steam rising from our bowls of pasta as the snow begin to fall in cottony flakes. I skated on streets near my home , knowing what the next day would look like. And I prayed that work would be closed as I turned on the television to watch the Super Bowl.