I like winter. Or should I say, I like winter until January second. It's a sad, empty feeling when the festivity and merry-making and celebrating comes to an end, like flower petals that wilt and fall to the ground only a few days past their prime. And the memories are packed away with the tangible items--the Christmas tree, the wreaths, the crimson bows--only to be unfolded when a forgotten ornament is found under the couch, coated in a layer of dust. Because the happy part of winter is over, spring seems such a long, long way away, and the days are cold and bitter, one after another.
But I'm learning to love each month, regardless of the reputation it may have. January has a quiet, beautiful song, one that can only be heard if you're silent and are listening for it. January may seem terribly lonely and boring...until you discover its song.