For a long time, almost as long as I can remember I always thought of winter as the season where nothing happens except cold, snow and ice.

Not as promising as spring or sexy as summer or pretty as fall.  Just winter, nothing going on.  Several years ago when I was living in the country taking a walk through a snow covered field that I figured out winter’s meaning.

It’s the time for everything in nature, except us, to rest.  It’s a big sleep and time to do nothing.  Time for the ground to freeze.  Time for everything to slow down and stop dead.  Can’t have a spring or a summer or a fall without winter.

I made my peace with the winter months back then.  I’m waiting it out as we get to the shortest day of the year which is in two days.   Then the sun slowly gets a little higher in the sky each day at noon on it’s way to being directly overhead in mid-June.

I can’t wait but first I want to enjoy a bit more of the winter.