Frozen Lake Marion The Xavierite
While most people I know prefer the summer, winter is my favorite season because of the climate, atmosphere, and holidays that take place during the season.
For starters, I cannot stand the heat. Summer is always advertised as a time of fun and freedom, but for me, it’s nothing but a three-month slog. High temperatures irritate me, and every day I sweat through whatever outfit I’m wearing.
The summer also comes with a lot of heft, whether it be the humidity on my face or the smells in the air. All forms of travel become a chore, and being stationary helps nothing. Really, nothing helps in the summer. Air conditioning is too costly, ice cream is fattening, and no outfit will make the heat disappear completely.
Now compare this to the bliss of a dark snowy morning. The world is silent and scentless. A person could go outside bundled up and still feel comfortable walking around. Trudging through the snow and avoiding ice is difficult, but it’s better than burning under a sun that’s just a touch too close.
I see winter as a season of peace. The world is transformed into a wonderland, where the ground sparkles and a thousand streams of air collaborate to create the softest harmony.
Back in middle school, I would practically crawl through the snow just to make it to class, and after school, my friends and I would die laughing as we jumped over snow piles.
Nowadays, during a long night, I wander around campus and watch snowflakes fall from the solid sky. Or, I follow the tracks of the day’s commuters and wonder who made those heavy tracks.
Winter is meditative in a way that no other season can be. In the stinging cold, I find clarity of mind and a simple joy like no other.
Last, winter has better holidays than any other season. Summer only has the 4th of July, and Spring has St Patrick’s Day, April Fools, and Easter, all of which are fun, but don’t always feel very eventful. Autumn has Halloween and Thanksgiving, which are great holidays, but nothing can size up to the glory of Christmas.
They call it the most wonderful time of the year for a reason. Ushering in the season and ending the year with such a grand holiday is a perfect way to celebrate the coming cold.
Everything about Christmas time is distinct and special. The smell of cinnamon and cedarwood greets the nose at every doorway. Gentle songs of love and peace soothe frostbitten ears, and the entire world seems to transform into a colorful dimension of happiness.
Then there are other holidays that bring people together, such as the eight days and eight nights of Hanukkah, and the festivities of Kwanzaa. Under no other weather will one be as unified as they are under the grey skies of December.
Other seasons may have their pitfalls, but none of them size up to the iconography of winter. In the end, unless something changes in the physiology of my body, or the contents of my heart, to me, winter will always be superior to any other time of year.
It may be a harsh and difficult season, but that’s just what I need when transitioning between years. It’s the first and final season, a time of death and rebirth, loss and growth. Under thin air exists the greatest potential for change, and I will forever be loyal to the prospect it offers.