each morning at 8:30am when i trudge through cold winds to reach my hot breakfast, i remind myself that this winter is ending soon. this winter of stillness and suffocating snow, plopped onto the ground week after week. this winter of brisk walks through whiplash winds, no time to spare a kind word to the passersby. this winter of burrowing further and further into myself, little enjoyment from the company of others.
yes, i am a lover of the season of snowflakes and blizzards, the season of thick socks and crisp air. the stubbornness of winter, that fierce power to push us all indoors, continues to impress me year after year. i honor you for that, your consistency in relentlessness.
but there comes a time when hot cocoa cradled in my hands no longer charms me, when the fall of snowflakes outside my window just brings more sludge to push my boots through.
i am ready for my 8:30am walk to be that of golden light illuminating the land, the air filling my lungs with moisture and promise. i am ready for rain showers to stain the tree trunks that deep grey brown and to brighten those baby greens which appear slowly on the branches. i am ready for the smiles which push their way onto our faces as if they were crocuses pushing upward through stiff earth.
each morning i am reminded that this winter is ending soon.