I like winter. Its pretty much my favourite time of year. I like the cold crisp mornings when you can see your breath. I like the clear blue skies, the dark nights, the snuggling up in warm jumpers and hats and scarves, the cold which makes your nose and cheeks red.
I also like the promise it holds. Yes, you may think I’m mad. Everything is cold and dark, the ground frozen, the trees bare. It barely gets light before its dark again, and in between often its cold and damp and miserable. But its in this very darkness and hopelessness that the promise lies. Its a moment when anything can happen, and you don’t quite know what it will be. When all sorts of things will come out of this emptyness, this darkness, and you just have to wait and see.
This year I’m trying to do that. To be patient. To know, and be convinced, that that frozen earth with yeild something fruitful. It is possible. The last year or two have shown me what can happen when you don’t expect it. I wonder what I’m not expecting this year..