I love you. I do.
I love your skies – bright blue on the coldest days, silvery and close on those snowy ones.
I love the crackle of ice and the crunch of snow under foot, as I, bundled up in favourite coat and hat and mitts and scarf and boots, meet you, on your turf. Outside. In the elements. And, you have a lot of them. Elements. Snow. Sleet. Ice. Wind. Damp. Cold. Frosty. Bright. I take them all. I embrace them and am braced by them.
I like the darkness in you, too, the shortened days. You are a season that turns us inward. To rest and restore. To cozy up to the leaping light of fire, to pull-in close to loved ones. And, to dream dreams of warm days, sweet blossoms and summer skies to come. You allow us to experience longing, for what is missing in you. To long for the warmth and fullness of sunny seasons. Yet, I am full on your emptiness, dear winter. Filled up by the beauty and starkness of naked tree against pewter sky. Filled up by the emptiness of silvery vistas of snow-covered landscapes and ice-filled horizons. Wide open space is not empty, it’s full of soul. Winter’s soul.
Winter’s soul. Subtle shades of light, a time of inwardness, the closeness of the sky, a pause, a waiting. In the darkness of the short days, in the turning inward of the season, there is activity, unseen. There are blossoms waiting in those snow-covered fields. There is hope in those silvery skies which hold the key to spring.
You’re not always an easy partner, winter. But, I would never leave you for another. Please, never leave me.