The leaves are gone from the trees. The birches and oaks and maples stand bare. It’s the dead of winter, and that expression is no mistake.
Still, beauty persists. There’s something quite exquisite about a leafless tree silhouetted against a twilight sky … frost bejeweling the delicate edges of fallen leaves … ice cloaking each tender branch … snow blanketing the barren ground.
Here, in the dead of winter, the cold yields a sign of life, as my own breath is made visible. I’m reminded, moment by moment, that each moment is mine to savor. I delight in the changes in God’s world, I surrender to the changes in life’s circumstance, and I treasure the steadfastness of the breath within me and all that it allows.
⇒ How does winter affect you? I invite you to add your thoughts below.