I secretly love winter. I pretend to anxiously anticipate summer, but secretly I love winter.
I love the swirls of whites and grey. The way the trees dance against the wind. I love the sound of winter, the way she howls, the way she cries, and the rumble of her laughter.
Winter is my soul season.
I’ve met many a spring child, bubbly with new promises, warm cheeks and a fresh perspective. She’s moody, swinging from long picnic days to sharp hail tantrums.
She’s innocent to her seductive power. Her bright blue eyes and the dark lashes of warm nights. She’s a heart breaker, a breath taker .
She’s a flower child.
Summer’s misunderstood. An extrovert, the loudest singer, the worst sinner, she’s the bad girl they all talk about. She’ll bathe you in heat and lick your skin. She’ll awaken your deviant.
Summer will devour your core.
But you can’t stay here. You can’t lay down to rest. She will burn you out. A summer too long is poison to dreams.
She’ll never grow up.
Of all the sisters, Autumn is our quiet girl.
She dances to a steady rhythm, a beat that builds. Can you feel it? Do you see it? She’s changing. You don’t recognize her. She’s transforming . You can’t stop her.
You’re in awe.
Her leaves fall away and twist at her feet. She doesn’t miss a beat.
She’s Autumn, our wild girl.
But me, I’m winter.
A contrary winter girl who knows that the storm is just the beginning.