The past couple of weeks we’ve had record low temperatures here in east coast central Florida; in the 30’s, with 28 degrees two nights ago.  We native Floridians are not used to temps below 40 and seldom for more than a few days each year.  I saw snow in Paonia, CO on my birthday in 1996 for several hours.  When I woke up and looked outside, I saw it snowing and so I ran outside to be in it.  I was wearing sweats but was barefoot.  I knew it would be cold, but as soon as it touched my body, it melted and I was surprised it was wet.   I saw snow again as we drove across Donner’s Pass, where it was waist deep.  Other than those two days, that’s the coldest I’d been.  Until this week, here at home in Florida.

My cold weather wear this past week has been sweatpants, warm socks, my Cabela sheepskin booties, my Cabela sleep silk top with a flannel shirt over it, and my sweat jacket over that.   I’ve worn my hair down, and had on one of my hats.  That keeps me warm and cozy when I’m inside.  I like keeping the house about 60 and wearing more clothes, since that’s a novelty for us Floridians.  Yesterday morning I went for a drizzly, chilly walk around the neighborhood, so I put my rain poncho on top of everything else.  I looked like one of those kids you send out to play in the snow and they are so bundled up you don’t know whose kid it is until you unwrap them.

It was drizzly and about 35 all day. I went out to the shed and brought in my small oil filled radiators.  No need to turn on the central heat when only 2 rooms need to stay warm.  Also, upon the advice of friends who know this kinda stuff, I went around outside the house and wrapped up the pipes in case we did get a freeze overnight.   I figure the animals are safe and warm in their burrows here, and under the shed; it has a crawlspace under it and is protected from the wind.  There are lots of fallen pine needles on the ground to make a nest with. I’m happy to have some natural property as a sanctuary for our native critters.

Today is the first time I ever decided which door to go out dependent upon its proximity to the space heater. I now understand the meaning of “Don’t let the heat out”.  I always thought: if the heater is on, it’ll be warm again as soon as the door is closed, right? Well, no, I found it might take another hour to warm it back up if I leave the door open like I usually do when I run outside for a few minutes.  Lesson learned.

I wrote on Facebook: Who all is getting their perceptions changed due to the unexpected cold? I sure am.  I took a walk outside in the 33 degrees rain to get the mail. Coming back in I realized how warm and toasty 62 degrees really is.  Inside the freezer doesn’t seem all that cold today. It’s all about perception and relativity, isn’t it?

My friend in Alaska, Chris Mahoney, said: “Try minus 40-60 degrees and your perception will tell you nothing’s cold after that. That’s when zero is a heat wave.”  That sure gave me some relativity.

As I was on my rounds covering up the outside pipes, I walked into my formerly lush west garden.  I could see which plants had been frostbitten and which had made it. Let’s just say the view is no longer obstructed and I can see right into my west woods and the firepit circle.  All the turk’s cap is gone but only half the arbicola.  My giant pothos is hangin’ on for dear life, but I can see it’s blackfrosted. It’s ok, little tropical plants, the cold is simply hastening you onto your next evolutionary stage.

Yes, it’s all about perception and how we react to what Life throws at us.  Even after a hurricane, I’ve never seen my plants so devastated.  It shows me how heavily I relied on turk’s cap to give me privacy.  Now my turk’s cap is frostburnt to the ground – gone.  Yes, this time next year it could be back to where it is now, but that leaves me months of exposure, with half my privacy hedge gone.  Yikes, that means neighbors passing by can look into my yard.  Oh no, what could be worse?

I have to laugh at myself for this train of thought.  Everyone is so wrapped up in their own little world, I am sure no one pays any attention.  And so what if they do?  I’m friendly and gregarious when I am out and about, but I tend to be very private and keep to myself at home. I like having a barrier of shoulder high turk’s cap and arbicola between my front yard and the street.  It helps me feel protected from inquiring eyes.  I wonder what I feel I need protection from?

So now my turk’s cap bushes are all gone.  It makes me wonder what else I count on for security that could be gone in a flash.  I remember 20 years ago being afraid to work for myself, I couldn’t imagine making as much as my paycheck paid me.  And now I make lots more than then.  Granted, for half of it I never know when it’s coming.  I never know where it’s coming from.  But it shows up and on time.  To me, that’s an indicator that I’m on the right path: that it all clicks into place with synchronicity, grace and ease.

Knowing that is my security now: that when I’m on the right path, it all clicks into place with synchronicity, grace and ease.  If I’m encountering obstacles or feeling weird about what I’m doing, that doesn’t always mean don’t do it, but it means pay attention and gather more information before making decisions.

This Spring, my decisions will include: what plants shall I replace the turk’s cap with?  I won’t know until the end of the season how many plants have made it through.  Maybe I’ll just create a line of loquat saplings, I have so many of them.  They are very cold tolerant and my 3 newly planted 30″ high saplings all got new blooms this past week.  Or maybe I’ll just go for the new look, having a clearer view of the street.

Hmmmm, do I want what I’m used to, what’s familiar, what I know I like?

Or am I ready for change?

How about you?

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