blustery, cold wind blows in from somewhere, last remnants of fall and summer flying away, trailing geese on seasonally cheap tickets to Florida, and Chicago feels like Chicago, leading to bundling, to howling winds past new windows, naked trees swaying, whistling, leaning, creaking, skies cold and grey, days too short and nights too long, but all the more suitable for couch time, for movies and book reading with cups of hot cocoa, bowls of soup, and freshly baked cookies. this is the weather to which i am suited, where my natural tendencies, my internal demeanor, (which isn't the correct usage I believe), fits, lock in key, hand in glove, and flourishes.