Are you shivering when it’s about sixty degrees? Is it possible to work up a good sweat just by walking outside on Christmas Eve? Do you have no concept of how much it is snowing in other states?
Well then, you’re ready for Christmas in Florida.
This will be a shorter post simply because there is not a lot to say on the subject—but I thought you might find it interesting/fun/uplifting. I used to live in Chicagoland (the suburbs surrounding Chicago, Illinois) and, as such, I am quite familiar with snow. That white powder some dread is something so ingrained in my childhood, the memories may never leave.
And, during those days, I could tolerate, without a coat, several minutes of below-freezing exposure. I could handle the burning cold that is picking up ice and snow with bare hands. I’d trudged across white fields and had trouble seeing because my body heat fogged up my glasses.
But, now, in my Florida life, all of that went away. My blood thinned out; I can’t stand being cold. I haven’t seen real snow in years.
And, around Christmas time, it’s that last part that makes for surreal moments. Seeing lights hung on palm trees, red and green glow cast on the bone-dry ground. I’ll be doing my daily walk, and sweating, while seeing Christmas trees glowing out from the windows.
But, no matter how odd it might be, there’s still a charming essence about things. I love this time of year regardless of where I am: snow or no snow. I always have.
Because there’s something about the holiday season, if you celebrate the holidays, if you believe in them, that supersedes the physical world. I don’t necessarily mean religiously or spiritually. I mean there’s a light there, somewhere, captured in passing—in the agreement of celebration—that warms my heart in a way never stifling, even under the Florida sun.