Every year you take me by complete surprise. I know you are here when I open my front door, and I am not greeted with a heavy and sweaty humid slap to the face. Instead, a crisp air sends the perfect chill down my arms and legs. I immediately appreciate the fact that beads of sweat no longer border my hairline as I walk into my first-period class. Miami’s winter, you have no idea how much I love you. 

Miami’s winter combines the perfect amount of wind, low temperature and sunshine, enough to make you break out a couple of sweaters and jackets but not my grandma’s old, itchy mittens. My hair no longer frizzes the moment I step out into the outdoors. During Miami’s winter, I find myself in better moods and constantly adjusting my schedule to go outside. Miami, I love those Friday nights when I can roll down all the windows in my car with friends, blasting music as the cool wind blows through our hair. Miami, I love how you encourage me to go on picnics and hour-long walks. 

The perfect 50 to 70-degree temperature range sends chemical messages throughout my entire body, pushing endorphins at a higher rate than any other time of year. A short season that does not compare anywhere else in the world. Miami, I am sure to miss your sporadic, six-day winter dearly. Every year, as soon as I adjust to and thrive in your perfect temperatures, you leave me; you leave me sweating once again. 

For the rest of my life, I will always have a close attachment to Miami’s winter because of the memories I associate with this short time period. I remember that the first chilly day of the season always resulted in mountains of piled-up clothes as my mother and I scrambled for an extra long-sleeved shirt to wear under my elementary school uniform. I remember the two out of the 365 days of the year my mother brought down my one pair of boots to wear to school. I remember my father taking me to a park to complete my homework; “Mother Nature’s Christmas gift to you,” he would say. Miami, I never knew how much I loved you until I realized I am not going to have you all for myself next year. 

Miami’s winter, an unconventional time of year that leaves Miamians begging for more; I will miss you dearly and hopefully feel you again in a random week in January. Rest well!