It always happens around Halloween, when you're in the middle of your busy, tired autumn and still far away from Christmas.
The first mornings of scraping ice off the car and skidding on frozen puddles. The first lungfuls of air that smells of winter and nothing else whatsoever.
The first sensation of fingertips going numb when you forgot your gloves. The first uncontrollable shivers under a parka not quite thick enough.
The first snow, delightful and shocking with its promise of a new season.
The last week in October - the time when autumn turns from mild to harsh. My fingers are constantly numb with cold but when other Finns moan about the long winter ahead, I only worry about getting the winter tires on my car. Once that is done - always a mad scramble at this time of the year, always a cold, cold task - I settle in to enjoy the challenging, mysterious, exotic, dangerous winter in the North.
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