I love winter. It's when the world hibernates - life slows down. You don your tea for a hot chocolate, grab a book and read. You put on thin clothes and make snow angels, soak through your snow pants because you keep flipping your sled. You ice skate at midnight, under the halo of floodlights. While taking walks, your breath puffs into icy clouds. Snow forms in small clumps on your mittens, it hardens into ice and then melts through. Cold in unpleasant places, sweat pouring down your brow. You'll finish making your snow man, straighten your back, and then look up.
One day, life will stare back at you, laced with a sweet irony. Lights flash, posters scream, the sounds of the city speak to you. But so does the lover that now takes your cold hand in his, smiles with a light that is brighter than any shop window. But yet, in the morning, it's always to those cold busy streets that we run to, not to his warm embrace.
But for now anyways, I find comfort in the snow. At least then the cold reminds me where I am, makes me ever concious of my situation. Helps me to find true warmth.
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