Finding winter’s heart takes you on a journey of cold. Each winter seems to move so slowly in the south as the ground stays colorless and trees bare.
I wait for Spring with anticipation; waiting for the first buds to appear on the trees; the first songbirds in the yard.
I find bliss in watching children bundled in coats, gloves, and hats; screaming with joy as they chase each other in the cold. Two winters ago, my grandchildren enjoyed a snowy morning making snow angels. I remember the laughter and the fun as they chased each other ar9und with snowballs, squealing with delight when one beelined my husband in the back.
I have never hated winter. I find this season filled with magic. I know I probably have a romanticized view because I have lived in the South most of my life, but I did spend one beautiful winter in Ohio in my teen years.
My favorite day involved watching my large sheepdog chase snowballs during a backyard snowball fight with my sister and brothers. We got gloriously cold and wet, red faces and noses shining in the afternoon sun, but I remember those days with delight.
My favorite winter verse now of all times is found in Job 38: 22:
Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?
What are your favorite snow memories? What does the heart of your winter look like? Here are my fond memories of winters of years’ past.
This post is written for the Anita Ojeda’s Write 28 Days Challenge for February 2019. You can read more posts in this series by visiting my introduction page.
As per usual, I will be linking up my daily posts to many of the linkup listed on my Linkup Parties page. Be sure to check it out as I am currently updating my links.
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