They’re saying this will be Chicago’s coldest, snowiest winter in years — the kind of winter that earns this city its reputation and reminds everyone else why Chicagoans are built a little differently.
There’s plenty of advice this time of year about protecting your pipes, insulating your home, and preparing for what’s ahead. All important. But as winter approaches, I find myself thinking less about the logistics and more about what this season consistently brings out in the people who live here.
Because every time the temperature drops, something familiar happens.
Neighbors begin to look out for one another. Sidewalks are shoveled beyond property lines. A text gets sent during a storm: “Do you need anything?” Help is offered quietly, without fanfare, and often before it’s asked for.
When it goes below zero, you’re told to leave your faucets dripping to protect your home. But what matters just as much is making sure the person next door is okay — especially the elderly neighbor, the young family navigating their first winter, or someone new to the block who hasn’t yet learned the rhythm of a Chicago winter.
There’s a steadiness that comes with this season. Winter strips things back. It slows life down and brings clarity to what actually matters. When the cold keeps us inside, connection becomes more intentional. You don’t run into people by accident, you check in because it feels necessary.
You see it in the smallest moments. A borrowed shovel. A cleared car. Children bundled in layers, laughing through the cold. Inside our homes, dinners linger a little longer. Conversations go deeper. Homes become what they’re meant to be: places of warmth, comfort, and refuge.
From a real estate perspective, winter is often described as quiet. But I’ve always believed it’s revealing. It shows you the strength of a neighborhood, the pride people take in where they live, and the quiet understanding that a home is more than four walls, it’s part of a community.
Yes, prepare your home this winter. Protect it well. But also take care of the people around you. Check in. Offer help. Be present.
Chicago winters aren’t easy, and they’re not meant to be. But they are honest. And in that honesty, they remind us why so many of us choose to stay, build lives, and raise families here.
We don’t simply endure winter in Chicago.
We take care of one another, and that’s what makes this city feel like home.
