Winter is my favorite. At least, that’s how I feel every year as I snuggle up and wait for snow. When we lived in Colorado, I loved running out to dance under the first flakes and then scurrying inside to watch the thick drifts pile up. I’d tire of winter come May when I eagerly wanted to plant, but I still enjoyed the stillness. In Kansas City, I really relish the few snowfalls I see.
Our second snow of the season in KC was just perfect. It came in the night with wild winds and frigid temperatures, and left the world a glittering white. Our drafty windows sent us upstairs early with a pile of books and blankets, and the winter quiet was just right for recovering from the holiday madness.
Winter is definitely dark and cold, but I think that stillness is essential. Every winter, I relish the slowness and the boredom. I’ve had my best creative thoughts on dark, silent nights, and I really appreciate the break from all things busy. In my house, we snuggle more, chat about everything we can think of, and eat lots of soup. I feel closest to the people I love in the silent winter months because we spend so much time together.
I know lots of people who long for endless summer sunshine and the space to be outdoors often, and I agree that the warmer months are wonderfully beautiful and fun. The quiet, whispering beauty of winter is worthy of celebration, too. We need this season to rest. We need long nights to dream. We need space to curl up with our loves and do nothing at all.
About a year ago, I wrote a poem celebrating winter for my story doll project. I think it’s a good reminder of all that is beautiful about savoring winter, the only months when time nearly freezes and we have space to be present in our lives.
STILL
as the last rustling leaves drift down from the trees
the gray blanket of sky is all we can see
from cold frosted windows we quietly peer
and wait for that first tiny flake to appear
snow starts out so small, just a mere speck of frost
drifting slowly along like someone who’s lost
then suddenly snowflakes swirl all around
tumbling down to the dark frozen ground
a whole winter exists in those first falling flakes
with silent white landscapes and slick frozen lakes
turning the bleak gray of winter a sparkling white
that glistens and glitters on long chilly nights
the pale winter sun barely lights up the day
but bundled and mittened we eagerly play
making snow forts and skating and sliding down hills
’til fresh snow sends us home to warm up and be still.
