Psst: I secretly love Winter. I'm an introvert of sorts. I like to be home, in comfy clothes, with hot tea in my hands, notebooks and pens at my fingertips and a good book in my lap. Maybe one I've read a thousand times. Maybe (rarely) something new. So, I secretly love Winter.
I'll moan and groan with all the rest of the world about it. Agh the cold! Agh it's so depressing! Agh I can't go anywhere! But secretly, I love bundling up in my coat that is on it's last legs, wearing a big heavy scarf that will definitely give me neck pain later on, pulling on 10 year old thick warm socks and going out into the cold to take Rosie on a nice long walk. Because I love Winter.
Something about Winter makes me feel so alive. The blistering wind hits me in the face and wakes me up. Instead of resisting, instead of hunching over and closing myself off to Winter's beast, I try to embrace it; I try to open myself to the shock of it. And against all odds, I'll try to smile at this supposed evil war that Mother Nature is waging on us. Instead, I see it as a beautiful reset button.
Just as Mother Nature sheds her beauty to restore herself for the next season, I like to think of Winter as a time to start fresh. It's only convenient that it comes at the end and start of each year. A time for deep reflection, a time for reorganization, a quiet time to do all anew or anew, but differently. Winter shows our hardiness and our heartiness; our endurance; our strength; our roots, and our base; and our potential for growth. The strong trunk, the firm branches, the determined greens, all everlasting whatever life might throw at us. I have nothing but deep respect for the woods of Winter.