I'm missing it this year. Here we are in mid-January..and not a sign of the clean bright white that blankets the earth that is - for me - so warm..so invigorating..so familiar.
A season of short days and long nights. A season whose icey cold bites to the bitter bone. A season that is more often linked to hardship and depression than to laughter and light.
I love winter. I embrace the familiarity of the season. The cold air awakens...energizes..enlivens me. It's a welcome respite from summer's heat...from the dazzle of autumn's golden color. It's simple. It's clean. It's white.
Having grown up with the season - it holds a certain space in my heart. A space that speaks to long cold days in the snow...and even more - to the warmth of returning home. It speaks to frozen fingers and frostbitten toes..and to the sensation of their defrosting. It speaks to comfort - a warm blanket...a blazing fire...hot cocoa...more
We're not seeing much of it here. But - up in Vermont..it is still to be found. Winter - in all of its splendorous color..and winter - in simple white.