Winter of my Content

2 Jan

Yesterday was warm, almost like Spring was just around the corner waiting to surprise me.  This morning, it was bitter cold and the flurries were like white confetti from the sky.  Now, the wind is blowing hard again, but the sun is shining as if it were forcing its very will upon the cold.  It’s not time yet, the sun seems to be saying.  Just a little more time until the grayness permeates the sky.

I should not complain about impending Winter.  It will, as it always has, occur every year for those of us in the areas blessed with four seasons.  Although the trees are barren and the grass meekly clinging to the last vestiges of green, the landscape of Winter can be beautiful.  The purity of falling snow, ice like glass hanging from tree limbs making them look like twinkling chandeliers in the winter sunlight.  The puff of breath, visible only in the coldness, and the night sky revealing more of the worlds that lay beyond.  Winter is bleak, yet such a disarmingly simple palate can be  exquisite.

Of course there’s a metaphor in the harshness of winter.  The trials one must endure always knowing there is a promise of ease from the unrelenting cold.  Hang on, we tell ourselves, the sudden blossoming of trees, the sudden warmth in the air, is there in the distance.  We can enjoy the delicate ice and snow, knowing there is the burst of life we need to sustain us in the future.  And there it is.  The promise of something better to come, if we just see our way through the nights that darken too early and the cold that sends us shivering to the sanctity of our beds.

When I lived in New England, I would begrudgingly endure the winters.  I rarely left the house except for an occasional bout of playfulness in the snow.  It was beautiful, intoxicating, but after mere minutes out in it, my feet wet, my nose painfully cold, I would retreat back into the warmth.  My winters are milder in the South, yet my body is conditioned for hibernating when the first cold snap rears its ugly head.

In keeping with the metaphor of the seasons, I decided this year maybe I am meant to see something else in the winter.  Maybe it’s not to just be endured, but to see something useful in its existence.  Having been self-reflective for quite a while now, I believe there is something to be gained, even in the harshest of conditions.  The last year was not always easy, yet there were so many wonderful moments.  Each of them beautiful and unique like the snowflakes that are destined to fall soon.

Maybe this year, I’ll stand outside with my feet wet and my nose cold and look up at the sky devoid of any color but gray, and I’ll inhale deeply the crisp air and I’ll be grateful for it all.  Even that which has caused the most pain.  Because my gratitude for the first buds on the trees or a Robin hopping in the ever green grass, will be that much more.  There is a lesson in it all, maybe I just have to be smart enough to study it.

2 Responses to “Winter of my Content”

  1. The Hook January 16, 2012 at 11:36 am #

    That closing paragraph was among the best I’ve ever ead on WordPress – ever!

    • Cold Dead Heart January 16, 2012 at 2:50 pm #

      Thank you very much for all your feedback and words of encouragement. It really is appreciated.

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