Winter Settling In

It's that time of year again. Layers. Foggy glasses. Ice on my windshield. Three feet of snow lining the driveway. Dark when I leave for work, dark when I come home; not exactly sunny during the hours in between, either.

Oh, winter.

In glimpses here and there, I do see its beauty. Slow, fluffy flakes, gracefully twirling down to the earth. Frosted branches lining the River Valley. Pristine snow fields, and their sparkle on that rare, sunny day.

But I tell ya, on the whole, winter is not exactly inspiring. My drive to take pictures of its beauty are trumped by the cold. My desire to be active outdoors is as fleeting as the sunshine. While in the summer, I am bursting through the back door to get to my garden, my hammock, my bike--the winter sees me sprinting into the house after work to get to my PJs, my blanket, my TV.

(And while yes, snow blowing does come with some feeling of satisfaction, I must say, it's been eating up a significant amount of my free time, and I'm about done with it.)

One thing I have recognized this year, though... is that while my general cravings--sunshine, the outdoors, taking pictures--seem suppressed by the cold and dark of winter, I am far from entering into sloth. I have simply traded those things in for activities that--I think--are more reflective of the pace of winter. Hot baths. One really good book after another. Tea. Yes, I do take in more television--but I don't really watch trash. The shows I watch tend to be as riveting for me as a good book. Plus, I generally have a cat on my lap. Win.

It is a season of drawing in, rather than exploring.
A season of wrapping myself up rather than spreading myself out.
And that is okay, too.