“In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me, there lay an invincible summer.” – Albert Camus.

Winters here are brutal, cold, dark, and sometimes bitter. People suffer; people adapt.

Winters are beautiful in their way, but for rural people, they have always been a hardship. They are for me also – the snow, the ice, the dark,  the cold, the trips to pasture in the bitter winds.

But they are also affirming they make Spring all the more beautiful and remind me of the healing and affirming power of color and light. They teach me perseverance and the joy that sometimes comes with overcoming hardship. They demand resilience.

Florida has no appeal to me, as happy as it makes so many people.

Winter is different from any other season, which makes the other seasons more meaningful. There is pride and accomplishment in getting the animals and us through another winter. Here we go again.

Just a day ago, there were flowers in my garden bed, trees on the big apple tree, and more flowers in Maria’s gardens. Today, they are almost all gone.

We’re just about into the gloomy month of November, Winter in line right behind,  and last week, two nights of hard frost polished off nearly all of the flowers and knocked the leaves off our trees. We had a taste of Winter’s mighty breath.

Some people move to get away from the seasons; we love being in a place with four seasons, and each one makes us appreciate some of the others. I’m a color and light addict and will be happy to see Spring again. Winter makes me love it all the more.

On the other hand – there is always another hand – I will also be challenged to be creative about capturing the beauty of the different seasons. I can make my own color and light in January. It is always there if I know how to look for it. Winter isn’t so easy.

Tonight, a Dog Support Zoom on behalf of a frightened Great Dane.  I also have some technical issues to sort out with my Web designer. This week, I remain in my surgical boot. It’s getting colder.

The winter landscape is breathtaking to me, but I will miss the warmth and beautiful colors of Spring and summer.  November is my least favorite month of the year; usually cold, rainy, and gloomy.

Out alone in the winter rain,” wrote Robert Frost, “intent on giving and taking pain.” Somehow, I can’t imagine Robert Frost in Florida.

This week, our bright blue birdbath – used mainly through chickens and barn cats – will go into the barn until Spring.

I’ve been through many winters, and I’m slowly but steadily approaching the winter of my life. I appreciate the winter; it is a part of me.

I love my flowers, but I never feel more alive than when sitting by a wood stove with a good book and someone I love in a howling snowstorm, drinking some hot chocolate, or waiting for my tea to cool.

The changes in seasons stir me in a way I can barely describe.

Robert Frost: “You can’t get too much winter in the winter. Out alone in the winter rain, / Intent on giving and taking pain. Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these.  She a window flower, And he a winter breeze.”