Difficult to Love

I love winter. Yes, I know this makes me weird and most people look at me like I have lost a few marbles (perhaps from frostbite). But there is something about winter that speaks to me. I love the sunsets in winter- the bare, black limbs of trees spearing through the dark purples and clear hot pinks . I love the hush after a new snow fall, when the world looks all white and fluffy. It's like everything is muted and whispering. I love the wild winds that shake the windows while I am warm and snug with a cup of hot chocolate and my favorite book. I love that winter means slowing down, sometimes without a choice.

Summer, on the other hand, calls you out the door with blue skies and breezy, sun kissed winds. You don't need a coat or hat or mittens. Heck, you don't even really need shoes. It's easy to love summer. Winter, now that's a different story. To enjoy winter, you have to prepare yourself. You have to don a thick coat, a hat, mittens and thick soled boots. If you're not prepared, the frosty air can hurt you.

But it's worth the extra effort to brave those chilly winds. The other day, I took my dog Kipper for a walk on what I consider a perfect winter day. The temps were a balmy 23 without a lot of wind. (we had just come through some below zero temps so it actually, if not warm, then not cold either) The skies were a clear blue with white whisps of clouds and the snow lay bundled on the ground.

Unfortunately, there is also a darker side to winter. The gloomy days when I would give anything for a glimpse of sun or days when the wind cuts right through you, making me want to hibernate. But somehow, loving winter is a lot more satisfying than summer. Summer doesn't require any kind of commitment, just enjoyment.

As I thought about loving winter and how it isn't easy, it sort of reminded me of married love. It's not always easy and it takes work and preparation. Sometimes, it can chill you and even hurt. But in the end, commiting to it, working at it, you get those perfect blue sky days you wouldn't trade it for any number of easy summer days.
~blessings, Bronte