Winter

I am not winter's biggest fan. Not by a longshot. In fact, last winter I reached a despair so deep that I genuinely didn't know whether spring would ever come. That was, of course, far more than a hatred of winter. It was a conspiracy of problems and issues coupled with a long and desperately cold and snowy winter. By March I didn't believe in sunshine or flowers.

This winter I am trying to stay ahead of the curve. I am taking Shiloh outside for a little bit every day that it's warm enough to do so. Sunshine makes a difference. I am turning more lights on. I am trying to be more honest -- with myself and others. Perhaps more importantly, I am trying to appreciate the beauty that winter offers. The sunrises and sunsets. The silhouetted trees. The sweep of the landscape. The birds.

I love spring and summer, and I deeply appreciated them this year; but as I've been driving around recently, I feel like I've been appreciating the beauty more than summer's beauty. Perhaps because I'm so desperate to keep myself from slipping into that desperate place. But also perhaps it's easier to notice the beauty when things are more stark. Just a thought. I think I'll ponder that one a bit more.