I’d missed the last two autumns in New York, arguably one of the best times to live here. I was excited to see what my neighborhood in Brooklyn would look like when the brownstone owners decorated heavily for Halloween and the colors of fire erupted onto the leaves of the trees lining my block. I was not disappointed, until a blizzard surprised us randomly in the middle of November, which is too early in the season for a woman who wishes it would only snow once in January and once in February, if at all. Strangely enough, some of the leaves held on to their branches for dear life for a few more weeks as if Mother Nature had heard my pleas for more fall weather and duct-taped them up there herself. But yet again, just as I felt in Spring and Summer, I feel like I didn’t have enough time in Brooklyn, as much as I loved the activities and trips that filled my calendar. Perhaps I should have lived here from the beginning.

I know from social media that I’m not the only person who thought January was unusually long. Of course, it lasted 31 days as it always does, but it just felt like it was never going to end for some reason. Maybe because of the cold weather? Maybe because there were 5 Mondays? Maybe because of all the nonsense going on in the world? Whatever it was, it’s nice to finally be in February now.