Walkin' in a winter wonderland...

I tell most people I hate winter. I guess I have a hard time being happy about replacing running with shoveling, and it would be nice if my feet were dry more than half an hour at a time. Still, winter is beautiful, and I spend so much time hiding from it I probably miss its more beautiful aspects. They say there's no such thing as bad weather, just insufficient clothing. If I'm properly dressed, I don't mind the cold and actually enjoy it. Standing on the bridge watching the stream gently carve out the snow and ice, finding its way despite being mostly frozen over reminded me just how beautiful winter can be.

I associate winter with inconvenience, hiking everywhere in drifts or in slush, wearing eight shirts to go outside, just to peel them all off again each time I enter an overheated bus or building. After a minor car wreck a few years back, where my overambitious attempt to pass a semi with a tractor in the winter ten under the limit and apparently too fast left me sitting on top of a street sign in the oncoming lanes--I tend to hate driving in winter. I drive like a pot-smoking eighty-year-old, probably causing more danger by the ice by being a moving road block. I dislike slush intensely, as I see no benefit to a viscous, icy mass that seems to cling to everything, soak my boots instantly, and basically look like if you mixed mud and whipped cream. I resent not being able to go running at 7 am, but still, there are other things I could be doing, like being a ski bum or building snowmen.


There are many positive sides to winter, unrelated to skiing or snowboarding, which I often under appreciate. The humor in counting the number of people who slip and fall down the stairs at the library, for instance, should not be underestimated. Nor should the value of the random conversations you have with all the other poor unfortunates who have to take the bus like you do. Ogling car wrecks is also fun and entertaining (hint: the best stretch is 285 by South Park), and pelting people with snowballs can be very amusing. If you're detecting a hint of Schadenfreude, you're right--I think they call it "misery loves company".