Baby, it's cold outside ...

The windows in my bedroom are affording the ultimate in natural privacy -- they are frosted over almost completely. Sometimes when they do this, there are beautiful, intricate patterns in the frost. I'm always compelled to take pictures. There is something that makes that beauty even more precious, knowing that as soon as the sun gains strength, the "art" will disappear without warning, never to be seen in exactly the same way again.

This leaf picture is my favourite piece of "found temporary art". Last September, while the leaves were falling off the birch tree, we had a lot of rain one night, and then a quick freeze before morning. A leaf had frozen to my windshield, and when I peeled it off, I was delighted to see that its shape had been preserved in minute detail.

Knowing that today was going to be a "freeze-your-eyelashes-together" kind of day, I took Piper up to the park yesterday afternoon. We took a good long walk, then hung out at the Bark Park for a while. All in all, I'd say we were out in the cold sunshine for about an hour and a half. I commented to one of the other dog owners that I'd been outside more this winter than the previous ten. What I didn't say (and I can't believe that I'm about to admit it here) is that I think it's probably been good for me. I still, physically, feel like my body wants to hibernate, but my brain is a lot more "with it" than it usually is in the winter. It's good. (But I still want spring.)

As much as I hate winter (and I really do -- you've gotten that, right? *grin*), I don't think I'd really want to by-pass it completely. Spring simply wouldn't as brilliant, as precious, as green, without having suffered through its predecessor.