Sunshine State Winter: The Surprising Thing About Winter in Florida

Here’s the thing about winter in Florida.

While I’ve grown up in Florida, I’ve also lived in other states in the US and spent plenty of winters – over half my life – outside of the Sunshine State.

I’ve endured blizzards and ice storms and stayed home through school and government snow days. I’ve dug my fair share of snow on driveways and sidewalks and inched along snow and ice caked roads. I’ve dug my car out of my snow covered yard, pulled it out of ditches, and blown a heater on it at night so it will start the next morning.

I know winter. And I actually like winter.

But not in Florida.

The problem with winter in Florida is that it is not what it appears. Much of Florida is actually like that, but we’ll stick to winter for now.

Winter in Florida is colder, not because it is physically actually colder, but because your eyes and brain and little voices in the back of your head all have expectations and opinions about the weather and are sure to let you know.

First, there’s that little voice in the back of your head telling you that Florida is a warm place. So when you step outside and it isn’t warm, Mr. Always Warm, pipes up. “This place is supposed to be warm. Where’s all the warmth?” And he doesn’t let up. Just keeps muttering away, like a grumpy teenager, disgruntled and unhelpful.

Next, Ms. Manners pipes up and comments that winters in other parts of the world are much worse. I mean, you aren’t in Siberia or the Canadian Tundra, so what’s your problem? You want cold? She’ll give you cold. It’s barely 40 here, stop your whining.

Nothing like someone telling you not to be bothered by something to be bothered by it.

While those two are chirping and grumbling in the back of your mind, your eyes decide to inform you that it doesn’t look cold outside. The sun is obnoxiously bright. The trees and plants are all green. Nothing looks dead or brown or bare like most winter scenes look. You’re surrounded by evergreens, no leaves ever fall off trees here or if they do, they do so year round, like pine trees, so no new development occurs.

Nothing obvious like mounds of white stuff or flakes of white stuff or icicles of shiny white clear stuff is hanging around making it perfectly clear that things are cold.

The world your eyes see looks warm and tropical and sunny. So therefore, since it doesn’t look cold, it must not be cold.

And yet you’re shivering, your breath is visible, your ears are red, and you can no longer feel your toes.

This is silly, you think. It isn’t really cold.

The information doesn’t sync up. You’re getting mixed messages. It’s cold, but it doesn’t look it, but it is, but it shouldn’t be, but it is, but it isn’t like Antarctica. You are so confused you don’t know what to do.

Finally, you say, bugger this and go inside and don your parka and socks with boots and a moth eaten wool scarf and padded gloves all over jeans, a tank top, a short sleeve t-shirt, a long sleeve t-shirt, and the warmest sweater you have.

Now proudly protected from the winter blast that you can’t see but can definitely feel, you head back out on your merry way.

And within an hour, it is 30 degrees warmer than it was that morning and no longer cold. You’ve got this blasted mess of winter crap to lug around that you’ve been shedding all day. Your Florida car which is baking in the parking lot under the Florida sun is filled with winter outerwear and some regular clothes, too, while you sweat and Mr. Always Warm says, “I told you so.”

That’s the thing about winter in Florida.

Sun in pines by Josep Monter Martinez from Pixabay / filtered from original
Sunny road by Szabolcs Molnar from Pixabay / filtered from original
Sunny sweater by StockSnap from Pixabay / filtered from original