Winter grass in North Carolina is brown and lifeless. It's the ugliest color this time of the year. Everything appears dirty and frost-bitten. I think most of us would rather skip January and February altogether. Fighting the traffic on ice-covered roads, gasping for warm fresh air; the birds are gone, the flowers and gardens are asleep. Life is still and quiet. Nonexistent.
It's hard to find beauty in winter, unless you're an honest-to-God nature lover and live in the woods.
I'm thinking about the season today. It seems endless. Winter. I've never been too fond of it. I'm looking forward to March and the blooming Bradford Pear trees. It signals the beginning of warm temperatures for me.
I'm a summer girl. Always have been. Always will be. But as much as I moan about the winter, I think I would miss it somehow. I love the seasons. The changes they bring. What they mean. And somehow I think God created the winter so we all slow down a bit. Hibernate. Rest.
Sooner or later winter always comes and eventually stays. As does spring, summer, fall, and winter once more. This cycle is the very definition of time passing; each season’s death brings me a little closer to my own. It's not a morbid thought, not really. It's time reminding us to live each season to its fullest.
No matter how cold and brown that season may be.
Blessings to you and yours.
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