The chill of winter has arrived here in New York State. The leaves have finally given up their last hold on the trees, and most mornings find a sprinkling of snow across our lawn and driveway. We turn up the heat, dig out our sweaters and extra-warm socks, and curse the sun that sets before five.
It’s a tough adjustment sometimes, when the cold seeps into our lives for another few months and everything outside turns brown and dies. We want to curl up under down comforters and dream the nights away. Sometimes even writing gets tougher in the winter – for me, anyway. It’s harder to see the finish line of a storyline or believe that I have anything fresh and new to say.
But then I look around at the holiday decorations filling the stores. I listen to the carols on the radio stations. I breathe in the aromas of turkey cooking and pies baking, and I remember why this time of year is a great one, too.
It’s a time to be thankful.
It’s a time to remember those less fortunate than I, who are living through trying times.
It’s a time to abandon the scale and eat that extra cookie.
It’s a time to celebrate my birthday (next month; I’m a close-to-Christmas baby)!
It’s a time to notice the beauty outside, the frozen white that turns branches to icicles and raises snowmen on front lawns.
It’s a time to play with those plots and characters stored up in my head, a time to experiment with new styles and genres. It’s a time to watch the wonder of children who believe in Santa and try to capture some of that wonder myself, in my life and in my writing.
It’s a time of ice and cold and darkness, yes, but also a time of possibility. Here’s wishing you all a safe, happy, and wondrous holiday season!
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