- 09 Dec, 2025 *
Last night was an especially beautiful night in the Bayou City. For context, Houston is not known for its good weather. We are in a humid subtropical climate zone. Summers are brutally hot and oppressive, even at night where the high humidity keeps summer nights in mid 80s (~30C). Winters are very brief and usually get us no more than a few days in the 40s (~6C), maybe 2 or 3 days at freezing. Fall lasts a week, and spring dies sometime in mid May.
Last night, however, we got a cold blast of air that brought with i…
- 09 Dec, 2025 *
Last night was an especially beautiful night in the Bayou City. For context, Houston is not known for its good weather. We are in a humid subtropical climate zone. Summers are brutally hot and oppressive, even at night where the high humidity keeps summer nights in mid 80s (~30C). Winters are very brief and usually get us no more than a few days in the 40s (~6C), maybe 2 or 3 days at freezing. Fall lasts a week, and spring dies sometime in mid May.
Last night, however, we got a cold blast of air that brought with it a glorious windchill. We were in the 40s. It was extremely windy, with constant bursts of strong wind that knocked down my hood and ruffled my hair so pleasantly I left my head clear. The cloud cover combined with the light pollution to make the sky an oddly comforting color of red. It was dark, but only 6, and the orange street lights made sanctuaries of illumination between the night. I live in a generic suburban neighborhood, but many of my neighbors have decorated for Christmas and so I had a tapestry of lights to enjoy.
It was my ideal weather, and I wore my favorite uniform for the occasion: a light hoodie and shorts. It didn’t bring me back to a specific point of my childhood, so much as it brought me to a vibe.
It’s weather I associate with playing fetch with my dog when I was a little kid, right at the edge of the the pasture. A late night watering my dad’s garden while the wind whipped up around me. Riding my bike through the dark and empty streets of my preteen home. My freshman year of college during parent’s weekend. The first time the woman who is now my wife and I went to see Christmas lights in the park.
I’ve waxed poetic about autumn weather so often in this blog, and it is like a thread that connects so many core memories in my brain. I imagine it’s because I’ve always lived near Houston and the truly magical days that match my preferred climate were so far and few in between. Even lazy as I was, I knew I had to take advantage of them and get outside.
Fallen leaves, strong winds, Golden Hour, and grey skies. Feels like autumn to me, even if it is December.