+after that it got colder, the world got quiet, it was never quite day or quite night, and the sea turned the color of sky turned the color of sea turned the color of ice

I used to really hate winter. How my hands would become stiff and painful when I would drive. The way I felt like hibernating, eating too much, feeling constricted, and constantly shivering. I used to love the heat, the ability to move easily, to wear shorts and flip flops, and to see a world full of green and color.

I realized during this (my first midwestern) winter, that my hatred for the cold and winter came from the fact that I used to think that socks were an option in Alabama. I believed that thin fleece gloves would be enough to walk through the cold. I never wore a hat for fear of messing up my hair, and I believed that putting on a scarf would do the trick to warm me up. Once I learned from the Minnesotan and the South Dakotan that hats keep your heat it, socks (and really, boots too!) are not really optional items, mittens (not gloves) keep your hand the warmest, I can finally truly appreciate the cold (snow, ice).

And with appreciating it and not wishing it's departure every day, I have come to fall in love with the symbolism that I used to scoff. While the trees are bare, the sky is gray, and the colors are not as vibrant as they could be, it IS a time of regrowth from the inside out. I can feel my mind and spirit doing the very same right now - growing roots deeper into who I am and sorting my thoughts out more and more. Winter celebration is just a little more somber and humbling than Spring and Summer, but no less important.

It's a beautiful Winter.