Somewhere Over the Sun

If he had to choose a character to represent the Mexico City winter, he would choose Mr. Peanut. An odd choice, certainly, but it seemed fitting. It was urbane, somewhat dignified, courteous, although unexpected. A little crazy, perhaps.

It came out of nowhere. No warning whatsoever. Maybe a 3 a.m. phone call a few weeks earlier that everyone had forgotten about. Then, suddenly, it had arrived. Nothing vicious, mind you. Mornings and nights were a bit harsh, but the middle of the day bordered on pleasant. Almost non-existent, all winters considered. Shaped like a peanut: fat at the ends, thin in the middle.

It was a winter that other winters might make fun of. Not even freezing temperatures, and it’d be gone within a few weeks, like a visiting relative that everyone forgot about until he showed up again next year, unexpected but gentle.