Waiting for Spring

First, I would like to apologize for the hiatus I didn't tell anyone I was taking.  I've been busy being lazy and melting into the TV.  I've also been having some grievances with winter.  While my cute skirts and sandals are packed away in the recesses of my attic, I've been piling on layer after layer to maintain some warmth, ready for the snow to stop falling.
And when it's not  snowing incessantly, everything is the color of cold steel.  Even the open blue sky has a desperate gray chill to it. And I am nearly done hibernating.  I am tired of waking up on Sunday to hang out in my living room with a blanket around my shoulders and woolly socks covering my toes.  Or going out just to go back inside.

However, for all my complaining towards this seemingly unfriendly season, there is, I've found, a calm beauty in the solitude of winter.  The hibernation of all that is green leaves room for the quiet stillness of a soft (if unending) snowfall.  And there is something steadfast and certain about a chilled afternoon--the ever-present, pervasive, and steady greyness that wraps the trees and covers the lakes and rivers in a blanket of rest.
 I'm not saying I'm all for it, just that, even in the midst of cold wet slush, there is always something beautiful.