Winter is an intimate time.
Minnesota - a land with blurred lines.
It is only when the temperature drops below 0
and the wind blows over 20 mph
that I begin to comprehend the season.
It is the unpredictability of a raw freeze that stops me in my tracks.
Crisp, cold air ~
I finally found the courage to bundle up and enjoy the arctic,
in doing so the melancholy so frequently defined as
the "Winter Time Blues" begins to drift away.
I do not dread the grey skies, they pass like everything else.
Beauty found in the hollowness as I listen to the crunch beneath my feet.
Waking up to a blanket of white cleanses and creates a new slate.
The barest trees exemplify the fragility of life,
half naked & empty.
There is an evident vulnerability attached,
a time of deep introspection.
Nights run long and darkness comes too early..
It's not always comfortable and it's not always exciting.
However, winter whispers secrets other seasons don't know...
& it's slow.
Our natural tendency is to want to escape the cold & avoid the shadow-
to run and find warmer thoughts and sunny lands..
Though it is the bone thrilling frost in which character is born and wisdom is found.
Merciless, a constant reminder to face it all without aversion.
To simply appreciate where you stand~
even with frosty feet.