I Love Winter in Woodinville

I love winter. Today is the last day of autumn. Tomorrow is the first day of winter. Yet, I’m a little sad. Starting tomorrow the days will get longer. I love winter. I even relish the short days and long nights. I want more of winter, not less.

Some people look their best in winter. Witness those marvelous birds and furry animals that spend winter in theopen: jays, crows, deer, fox, and bobcats. Those critters look in top shape. They appear in prime form. They stalk about with clean, immaculate coats. And all around them the cold, the pure white, the brittle ice and the biting wind. Yet, they’re all dressed in expensive fur and stylish feather; they’re warm against the arctic blast, elegant and poised in the face of the falling barometer, gay and bright before the advancing cold.

The wild animals look like they belong to winter; in fact, with their confident line and nonchalant angle they tell me they’ve conquered winter. These dignified creatures love it that they own the outdoors when weaker species have taken to cabins. During the freezing night when we roll up in our quilts, push up our thermometers and complain from down pillows about cold feet … tiny birds, tuck in their necks and sleep standing up on the branch outside our windows. Tough little guys.

The wild ones move about undisturbed in deep snows. They have the creek bottoms and cold ravines all to themselves. They own the winter season.

In sum, the animals rise to royalty during this season. These are the kings and queens, the princes and princesses of December and January. Oh noble chickadee and pink mouthed fox, I pay you homage … you are at your royal best in the season of frost.

I think, perhaps, even I look better in winter. I’m fatter, yes, but you need a little extra padding in this cold season. I, too, like to dress in my “feathers” and “fur.” I certainly love sweaters, coats, scarves, gloves and thick wool socks. A watch cap and down vest seem like my native dress. 

I like sweatpants and sweatshirts around the house. I love my warm slippers.  I’ve never met a fireplace that didn’t charm me. I like freezing fogs along the Sammamish. I’m inspired to faith by the grey Cascade mornings with their splashes of blue promising a far off spring. Seeing my breath on the air at 5 am sends my heart to singing. I love winter.

And, of course, the Holiday Season comes in winter. Comes with lights and decorated trees and gay store fronts. The Holidays come with a bit of extra friendliness to family, friends and merchants. Even the post mistress might get a kind word and a little envelope. And she deserves it.

I love winter. Let me count the ways. I’ve only gotten started. For me winter is too large a gift to unwrap in a few unlettered paragraphs.