The romance is over. It’s been a wonderful ride, snowy days spent sledding gentle Island hills, traversing farm fields on cross-country skis and snowshoes, blizzardy nights by the fire, hands wrapped around steaming mugs of tea while the wind howled around the chimney.
But it’s time to break up; this relationship is going nowhere. Snowy mornings have lost their appeal. The shovel on the back deck feels heavy these days. Sweaters, boots, coats, scarves — so dowdy.
It would be nice to stay friends. But we’re ready to move on. The days are stronger now, the morning sun climbing over the treeline in the east to brighten coffee and, at the kitchen table, the evening light lingering in the western sky in deep shades of salmon.
We’re smitten with something else now — the promise of spring.
— Winter Weary