Clarification: I do not love to BE cold. I like knowing that it is cold outside while I am sitting or sleeping somewhere comfortably buried under layers of clothing and mountains of blankets. I like to become a caterpillar in a cocoon of soft fabrics.
Almost everyone I know is like this. We live in a country where one of the top selling products is something called a "Snuggie." So why is it such a joy to the human soul to be all bundled up? Is it a journey of sorts back to that place where we are infants and we want to be swaddled and held? I recently watched a movie called Temple Grandin that features a LOT of cows. I learned that there are these crazy places in America called farms, and on those farms, they have these machines that "hug" the cows and calm them down. You would think that constricting an animal would set it off, but just the opposite.
I can't even fall asleep without crawling under the flat sheet. I need that magic force field that protects me from the mysterious night around my room. When I was little I was certain that a hand or foot that slipped out from the covers would be susceptible to attack from closet-dwelling monsters (or Ursula who I knew lived in both the Little Mermaid ocean and underneath my bed).
Even the bravest of us are no strangers to this truth. Policeman wear a bulletproof vest. Deep-sea shark hunters bring a cage and an oxygen tank. And skydivers don't jump without two parachutes on their backs. We all have our security blankets, things to wrap around our head and our heart when we feel a little chilly, when we're heading out into another brisk fall evening, walking toward the great unknown.
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