This December has been one of the coldest of my life.
I’ve been in Utah for 14 years, but as Utah has been in a drought for just as long. My first winter in the Rockies was filled with ice and snow, but each consecutive year the snow came later and later. Many years we would enter December without snow on the ground, and for several years the Christmas wasn’t white.
This year snow came early.
The summer was long and hot, temperatures breaking records into September, but hot as September was, December has been just as cold. Snow has been falling all month, layer upon layer, compiling and turning into crunchy ice. Walk ways and roads are slick, and icicles are hanging off of every rooftop. The world is something of a glittering death trap. A beautiful, dangerous wonderland.
Last year I would have hated it.
I never loved the winter. Every year the winter came around, and so did my depression. The cold made my hands ache, and the monotonous gray days left me feeling as lifeless as the frozen ground. But this year, instead of focusing on the parts of the season I hated, I have been working on seeing the the beauty of the season.
Bringing Mae Flowers 