The first thing that comes to my mind when I imagine Christmas is a cozy living room, illuminated by the gentle glow of yellow string lights on a festive tree and accompanied by sparks crackling from the fireplace. The taste of sugary hot cocoa and whipped cream sends warm tingles down my spine, making me thankful I am not standing in the bleak cold with the bare trees outside. Under a heap of blankets in my house, I feel warm and toasty. Experiencing the natural winter weather outdoors is the last thought on my mind.
While some people prefer to romanticize a snowy white Christmas, I’ve always preferred a warmer Christmas scene, like chestnuts roasting over an open fire. The oranges, browns and yellows make me feel comfortable and safe during a tumultuous month like December.
Honestly, the idea of a snowy landscape is overrated — I don’t want to plow a snowy driveway or frantically stuff my hands into my jacket to avoid frostbite. Why would anybody want to be outside in the bleak cold when all the holiday joy is inside the house, where you can spend a cozy evening with family?
Living in the Bay Area, snowfall is rare, even in the winter season. I’m actually quite glad about that because I could never stand the freezing temperatures that come with snow. Throughout my childhood, my parents have taken me on many ski trips, but I can’t imagine spending the majority of the rightfully warm holiday in the mountains. Even if I turned on all the heaters to maximum power, I would still end up endlessly shivering.
You might ask, why not just wear warmer clothing to face the cold weather? While a scarf and jacket may shield me from the worst of the chilly temperature, the numb sensation that radiates from my cheeks to my toes is very unenjoyable. I don’t want to have my limbs constantly feeling like TV static when I could be comfortable all day inside.
Most people might think skiing on the slopes is the best part of a winter wonderland, but I find that traversing the endless snow on the slopes makes me miss the familiarity of home even more. Just seeing the bleak skies makes me think of school stress and a clinging sensation of loneliness. When I stare out at the blinding whiteness on the slopes, I want to shut my eyes and crawl back into my warm bed.
My problem isn’t even about going outside. At Tahoe, I’ve always enjoyed walking around small towns in the evenings. Each building radiates a comfortable, warm glow, and the bustle of people around me perfectly encapsulates the exciting Christmas spirit. I can manage to ignore the cold when I walk along the streets of local Christmas festivals, admiring the ornaments, fire-lit lights and cozy warmth.
I especially treasure the memories I made back in elementary school, when I would come home from school for the winter break to a fully decorated Christmas tree — one that my family and I had spent time meticulously putting tinsel and ornaments on, laughing and talking while working together to make our house look ready for the holidays. The warmth that radiated from our heater and the fuzzy carpet under my feet is a feeling I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
While Christmas is often defined by its winter weather, the desire for warmth is superior. The coziness of being together with family or friends trumps any bitter winds roaring in my ear. There’s no reason to pursue a cool Christmas when I’m right where I need to be: the warm indoors.
Nothing will change the fact that I’m dreaming of a warm-toned holiday season — please don’t give me a white one.