|Thanks to Kady for this amazing piece!|
If you would have asked me two weeks ago, how I was coping with winter, I would have told you that I was doing extremely well. We managed to avoid the sicknesses in January that plagued us last year (though we have not been so fortunate this month). The temperatures were frequently in the single digits and teens--or lower with the windchill--but we were still biking and getting out of the house. The dark often felt harder to face than the cold, but even that it is easier to accept after the winter solstice. The days may be short, but we are moving toward the light.
Then this past week happened with its sunny skies and temperatures in the sixties. We were able to open the windows in the house, bask in the sunlight, hang laundry up outside, and spend as many of our waking minutes outdoors as possible.
Before this unseasonable weather, I had thought I was fine winter, but I think I had actually just forgotten what I was missing. Now that I have gotten a taste of the warmer weather, I don't want to go back to bundling up in layers every time we step out of the house.
I may be eager for spring's arrival, but I can still recognize the good in winter: the kids' excitement at experiencing snow, the holidays, books read by the fire, soups for dinner most every night, plenty of reasons for homebodies like ourselves to hunker down, and the fact that I am no longer in a place where the never-ending summer sucks the joy from my life.
Intellectually I can recognize the upside of winter. But emotionally I am ready for the warmth, new life outside, and entire days lived in the park. The beauty of four seasons is that none of them last too long; just when you are tired of the current season, the next one arrives.