I love winter. I can’t say why or how strong my love is for it, but I can tell you I love winter as if it were my first love and with all of my heart. As a young girl I can remember looking forward to the sights, sounds, and smells of winter coming.
Spying the first fallen autumn leaves, and breathing in the thick moist air scented with pine, and walking through mushy dark earth dotted with falls debris has always left me longing for the home in which I grew up in.
I love it when crisp winter air finally begins to set in; the contrast of the warmer air meeting the cooler air coming out of your lungs as you exhale and watching a billowing cloud out in front of your face; that’s when you know winter is right around the corner, when the cold air stings your cheeks.
Those first signs of winter: whipping winds, shorter days, and hazy cloud filled skies bringing with it plenty of humidity. It is those familiar howling winds which roll through the streets rattle the shingles and strip each and every tree limb of its autumn foliage sending summer packing, and alerting everyone of the arrival of Old Man Winter.
Bright yellow and orange jagged leaves whipped up into a frenzy to be carted away forever or at least until the spring, and hidden among the gray tones of the densely covered forest patiently waiting for the soft drifts of snow that are yet to come.
Those first flakes of snow that fall from the heavens always remind me of happy times playing outside as a child. My parents told me that when it snows and large crystal-like flakes drift down soft and slow, angels were up in heaven having a pillow fight, and the feathers from the pillows burst free and were softly falling to earth.
To this day that imagery still makes me smile. I find it an almost unbearable thought to live in a place where snowflakes rarely make an appearance and winters song is barely heard. One of the greatest joys in life I believe is to see how big of a snowman you can create from the first snow.
My senses are tingling at the thought of winters wind song playing softly through my mind. I can’t wait to savor the taste of freshly fallen snow and how my exposed skin feels when icy air touches it, and how your eyelashes and chin become coated with frost when you speak.
Right about now a nice fire and a big mug of hot chocolate, flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers sounds really good. I think I’ll kick back in my comfy chair safe inside my cozy house and watch the flames in the fireplace leap and dance, while listening to winters wind song outside sing to me a soft lullaby.