I do not love the cold. I don’t romanticize numb fingers, or the way the wind seems personally offended by exposed skin. Don't even get me started on driving in the cold.
And yet.
There is a quiet beauty to this season that keeps catching me off guard.
Winter has a way of stripping the world down to its essentials. Colors soften. Sounds dull. The landscape exhales and rests. Snow covers imperfections with a kind of gentle merciful rest. The world looks clean, and even holy.
Morning light in winter feels different in a way that is softer. When the sun finally rises, it doesn’t rush. It creeps in low while turning the pure white into various shades of pastel.
Winter reminds me that rest is not laziness, its part of the creative cycle. For more on the creative cycles see my book Time Management for Creative People.
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