Dear Winter,
There was a time in my life when I looked forward to seeing you again. You meant snow angels, snow forts, snowmen, sledding, and the most sacred yet rare Snow Day. You meant Christmas and ringing in the New Year. You meant cozy sweaters and hot chocolate. Every child's dream, right?
I'm not sure when it changed. Probably when I hydroplaned in to a curb as a 16 year old driver. Suddenly, I viewed you and your choice of precipitation in a whole new light. And I most assuredly did not like it.
I'd brushed aside your less than positive moments before. We all know you have to take the good with the bad each season. But Winter, you always had to go one step too far.
Exhibit A: my January birthday. Sub-zero temperatures, snowstorms, icy roads all of which translate to changed plans, missing guests, or rescheduled parties. Why can't you leave my celebrations alone?
Exhibit B: my phobia of walking/slipping on ice. Is that a real phobia? In any case, I'm slower than a Grandma when the roads and sidewalks are iced over. Don't mind my shuffling steps and for the love of Lloyd Dobler, sprinkle some salt!
Exhibit C: it's so freaking cold. It's hard to be fashionable when you have several layers going on. Also, I miss spending time outside.
Exhibit D: Seasonal Affective Disorder. Enough said.
My Midwestern roots prepared me well for whatever you tried to throw at us. I own long johns and the best snow scraper known to mankind. I'm a self-described sweater whore. I may not like it but I know how to drive in the snow. I can scoff at your attempts to break us with the best of them.
I will concede that I do not have quite the same enmity toward you since moving to Nashville. Why, just the other day saw weather in the 60s. In December. Be still my heart! While it's presently only warming up to the 30s and 40s, we'll see 60 again on Wednesday. This is a gift. Thank you, dear Winter, for being kind to middle Tennessee.
I take that back. When you bring snow to middle Tennessee, roads become parking lots. No one knows how to drive in an inch of snow here. But let's let bygones be bygones.
Winter, I'd like to propose a truce. I realized last year that my hatred of your ice and cold has clouded my judgment. I've missed out on the unexpected beauty of snowflakes. I don't want to forget the fun of making a snow angel or ignore your purpose. You pave the way for Spring, when all things are made new again. You are in fact necessary.
Christmas is one of my favorite holidays and part of its allure is the weather. Truthfully, I don't know what I'd do if I had to celebrate Christmas in the heat and humidity. My favorite Christmas movie is White Christmas. I joke that Christmas is the only time I want there to be snow- and it should fall overnight Christmas Eve, melt after the holidays and not come back until next year. I recognize it's not fair of me to limit how you express yourself, Winter.
I walked outside my house the other morning, greeted by the white rime of frost on the ground. I had a rather violent reaction and cursed your name. But when I saw Facebook status updates from loved ones back home talking about actual snowfall, I was thankful to live in snow-less Tennessee.
I made a decision then and there: I would not spend the next 3 months complaining about you and your weather. Instead, I will seek beauty wherever I am, enjoy another cup of tea, and discover the gift in hibernation.
However, when it does snow and the whole state forgets what they learned in driving school, all bets are off.
Sincerely,
Leigh Kramer, former Winter hater
(Thank you, Megan, for reminding me what Winter could and should be about.)
How do you feel about Winter?