In mid-January, winter’s gusts blow us a taste of icy, frigid breath. The crisp, white blanket of fluffy snow that covers every dip and peak of our scape glistens when a sharp glimmer of sun hits it. The magical glow that beams from the light reminds us of the beauty of winter. The barren branches of trees that were once green and flourishing, are now decorated with icy crystals that hang like earrings, gently swaying in the wintery air. Everything is still.
Cozying up with a mug of hot cocoa invites the warmth that we crave in our new frozen world. The smell of the hot cocoa is nostalgic. The fibers of wool beginning to fray from your mug warmer that you knitted a decade ago remind you of winters past, present, and future. Things have changed over time, just as the seasons did.
Tobogganing, skiing, snow forts, and snowball fights are no longer the peak of your winter season. As you remember your days of fun in the snow, you feel a rush of emotions. The memories are warm, but they are memories.
Tucking away the drapes of your curtains reveals a spectacle on the other side of the pane. Gentle, delicate tufts of snow float down from the sky, disappearing into the banks of crystal dust on the ground. For the first time, you appreciate how beautiful the sporadic snowfalls of the season are.
Before you know it, the wave of memories and adornment carries you outside. Bundled up in your parka with wool mittens, you realize the chill of the season is no longer a fear. In fact, the beauty of it all makes you feel warm. Looking up at the sky, the snowflakes seem to be falling from an infinite ceiling. It’s magical. Stretching out your wooly mitten, you catch some fluttering snowflakes. Disappointingly, they are fleeting. As they fall into the warmth of your hands, they dissipate and melt away. The gentle puffs of your breath as you get close to admire them only make them melt quicker.
The beauty of these intricate snowflakes almost feels temporary. One second, they’re unique lattices of nature’s design, and the next, they’re gone. You realize, like the seasons changing, their beauty is temporary, and they are quickly disappearing. The thing is, you’ve just never taken—or had—the time to realize the alluring nature around you. For the first time, you see that winter is more than just a frigid, cold blast. It deserves more than its reputation for slow commutes. It needs to be defined by more than just the holiday season. The beauty of the season wraps these, indeed, but on its own, is a piece of art.
From this day on, you realize that winter—in all its beauty of fresh snow and messy, slushy sidewalks—is really the greatest season. In all its chill and freeze, its warmth is a gem, waiting to be discovered.