A Chilly Park Walk and Some Thoughts on January

Hey everyone, hope you’re staying warm out there! January always feels like such a weird month to me. The holidays are over, the decorations are packed away, and it’s just… quiet. Ren and I have been trying to lean into that quiet a little, especially since work’s been slow for me this month (interior design clients apparently don’t redecorate in the dead of winter, who knew?). So, this past weekend, we bundled up and took a long walk through Riverside Park, just to get out of the house and clear our heads.

It was freezing on Saturday morning—definitely in the low 20s, though I swear the wind off the river made it feel closer to zero. I wore my favorite Patagonia fleece and a scarf my grandmother knitted for me years ago, but my fingers were still numb by the time we made it halfway down the path. Ren, of course, was fine in just a hoodie and jeans because apparently he’s immune to cold. We grabbed coffees from a little stand near the entrance—overpriced, but worth it just to have something hot to hold. The park was pretty empty, which I loved. Just a few joggers and dog walkers, and this one guy with a huge St. Bernard that kept trying to sniff my boots. I’m not usually a big dog person, but that fluffy giant won me over.

We ended up walking all the way to the Ironspire Monument, which is honestly one of my favorite spots in the city. There’s something about standing under that big, rusty arch with all the engraved names from the 1883 flood—it just feels like a piece of history you can touch. Ren was reading the plaques out loud, doing his best dramatic narrator voice, which had me cracking up. I snapped a few pics on my iPhone to send to Lissa, who’s always asking for “proof” that I leave the house in winter. The river looked so still, almost glassy, under the gray sky. I don’t know, there’s something about January light that just hits different—everything looks a little softer, a little sadder.

After about an hour, we were both too cold to keep going, so we looped back and headed home. I made us grilled PB&Js when we got in (don’t judge, I’m terrible at cooking anything fancier on a whim), and we spent the rest of the afternoon bingeing the new season of The Crown on Netflix. I’m still not over how cozy our living room feels with the holiday lights gone but the big throw blankets still out. I’ve got this one from Target that’s basically a giant sherpa cloud—10/10 recommend.

Anyway, walking got me thinking about how much I actually like January, even if it’s kind of a slog. It’s like the year’s hitting the reset button. I’m not one for big resolutions (we all know I’d break them by February), but I do like the idea of slowing down and noticing the small stuff. Like the way the bare trees look against the sky, or how good a hot coffee feels when your hands are freezing. I texted my grandmother later that day to tell her about the walk, and she reminded me that January used to be called “Frostmonth” way back when she was a kid. I’m not sure if she’s pulling my leg or if that’s a real thing, but I kind of love the name. It fits.

Work picks up again next week with a consult for a client who wants a full living room overhaul, so I’m trying to soak up these quiet days while I can. Ren’s got some stuff going on at his job too, so we’re both just trying to balance the calm with the chaos. I might drag him out for another walk this weekend if the weather isn’t too brutal—maybe we’ll try a different park or hit up that diner near Riverside for some post-walk pancakes.

What about you all? How do you handle the January doldrums? Any go-to activities or cozy rituals to get through the cold? I’m all ears for ideas, especially since I’m pretty sure I’ve killed another houseplant this week (RIP, little pothos). Drop your thoughts in the comments—I love reading them, even if I’m slow to reply sometimes. Stay warm out there!