In the universal tradition of small talk, my coworkers and customers alike have been lamenting the change of the season. It seems that I am alone when it comes to celebrating wintertime, since everyone else makes a sour face when the word "snow" is mentioned.
Winter has always been, and will probably always be my favorite season. When I was little I loved it because it contained Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Years, and Valentine's Day. Holidays always meant days off school, and the holidays that didn't (my birthday, for example) came equipped with gifts bestowed unto me, so it all evened out in the end. I've gotten a little bit older and have faced the sad reality of having to work on holidays and have stopped caring about receiving anything more than hugs on my birthday, yet the magic of winter remains.
In addition to my continued love for hats, mittens, scarves, boots, and hot cocoa, I associate winter with peace. The world stands still as we move further away from the sun, and brings a beautiful quiet to our world. As I sit here typing, snow is falling rather rapidly outside the window, and even though it's "stormy", I bet if I were to go sit outside, there'd only be the faintest rustling of snow as it deposits itself on my car. I love the quiet, I love how nothing seems rushed and everything makes more sense.
Winter break, which will now be known simply as "winter" to me from now on, has been my time of reflection. I sit down, make my lists and figure out what's going to happen with my life for the next year. Being able to do so in the solitude of stilled life, in the calming effect of cold air, and the illusion that life is on hold until the spring thaw has a cathartic and inspiring effect.
This year brings more difficult things for me to sort out due to the fact that said "things" are emotional in nature. I'm a firm believer in keeping my feelings wound up tightly like rubber band balls which are then locked up in one of those fire-safe boxes that will probably withstand Armageddon. Therefore having to even acknowledge that I have rubber banded balls of emotion, let alone attempting to unravel them in order to plan out the road ahead is a task needing some snowy solitude to sort out on its own merits.
1 day until wee Martin turns 21
14 days until I'm un-palindrome'd
26 days until Christmas
32 days until 2009