Last June I wrote a love letter to Summertime. Then, in October, I wrote a letter to your sister Fall. Surely, you remember Summertime and Fall? Summertime is young and flighty and I love her dearly. Fall is a bit more tired but she has some really wise beauty about her. You, Winter, are slow to reveal yourself to me or perhaps it is that I am I slow to see you? Either way, I can see you now.
The thing is, dear Winter, you are cold. When you first send Fall on her way, you are bright, colorful, full of spirit and warmth and good cheer. But then something changes you. You turn more icy and edgy, kinda cranky and, yes, cold. In the interest of full disclosure, you need to know that for years - and I do mean years - the piece of you that was January was the darkest month of my year. I counted with great impatience the days until the January piece would disappear and then I actively pushed February so she would move along faster. I wanted to banish you, Winter, from the planet.
You hang out in the Laguna with such tenacity.
You make interesting patterens in the dusting of snow too.
I can't say that things have improved THAT much but I can say that I am appreciating your stark beauty more. I can appreciate the simplicity that you are. Your sister seasons are all full of bright, luscious, and distracting colors. Your colors can be distracting but they distract in a more startling sort of way. Perhaps there is more contrast in your days or maybe I have learned to keep my eyes way wide open in order to see the simple beauty. It is there. Now I know that.
So here's the deal. I will keep my eyes open to you because you do surprise me sometimes. And you promise me that, from time to time, you will wow me with your silent cold beauty. But don't get your feelings hurt when I start pining for Spring. She has always been close to my heart and I miss her so much.