I absolutely love the cold. When it got chilly this past monday and I awoke to the first frost since October and nipping air and saw the icy cirrus clouds, I felt alive and awake with that jolt of pure consciousness that only a cold wind can bring. Maybe I am crazy but cold to me feels like Adventure. It is a drink from the fountain of Story, of which I become a character with Purpose.

I feel crazy for saying these things. Everyone else seems sad that the warm days are over, but for me, this is the beginning of the real enjoyment. Granted, I will probably be stuck in the grays by February along with everyone else, but is not that part of Life as well? To me somehow the Cold has a depth of soul to it that just does not happen in the Summer months, which tend to feel sticky and lazy.

Along those lines, I have come to realize that gray skies are in fact some of the most colorful skies out there. If you look closely at a gray sky, it is not gray at all, but a shimmering mass of reds and purples and blues and sometimes even greens.

The best part about cold is at night when you go out away from lights and buildings and people and stare up into the vast expanse above us. Winter skies are unparalleled for their beauty.

Summers and Springs are Golden, but I am a lover of Silver and will be content in my Winter Nights and Gray Days.