Winter never arrived this year. Except for a week in December, the winter months were balmy and snowless. Spring came early. The cherry trees had finished blooming weeks earlier than usual. While most people rejoice in spring’s colorful return, I don’t often join the festivities. I miss winter.
I enjoy the beauty in the stark landscapes, both large and small. The season and the bare trees and snow laden bushes lend themselves, I think, to quiet photographs.
Therein lies the key difference, for me, between winter and other seasons: winter is quiet, at times hauntingly so. Winter urges me to be quiet, prompts me to look carefully at the world around me, reminds me that I too shall pass.
Come, come thou bleak December wind,
And blow the dry leaves from the tree!
Flash, like a Love-thought, thro’ me, Death
And take a Life that wearies me.
Fragment, Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Spring is here. Blossoms and leaves have brought color back to life. I lament winter’s passing but take comfort in knowing it will return.