You glow in the dark while gleaming in the light, spilling countless crystals like tiny diamonds glittering on a fluffy carpet.
You transform hills from rich black earth and vibrant green grass to shiny, slippery slopes. You sing a siren’s song to eager children envisioning endless days of downhill delights, pleading for their sleds to be taken out of storage.
Tranquil ponds and lazy lakes are no match for your awesome power. They render solid at your touch, inviting skaters to etch designs into their now-glassy surfaces. You do battle with the mighty falls and its fierce flowing river, seeking to still fast-running waters with your magnificent icy fists.
You cover the ground in a brilliant blanket of soft luminosity, pristine and untouched by human hands. But other creatures will soon make their mark on your beauty.
You draw deer as night begins to fall. Racing across the fields, peeking through the bare trees, and jumping down and up over the banks of the creek, they make their way to the flat land where they freely frolic. The doe watches over her fawn as he, exhausted from the games, collapses to rest as the others forage for food.
The beasts of the forest come and go through your long night, leaving tracks behind for discovery at dawn. Morning finally arrives, and soon the squirrels show their funny little faces. They dig for buried treasure, cavorting and climbing. Their bushy tails paint your pale canvas with abstract stories of unfettered joy until it’s time to nap.
Your bright cold sun moves quickly along its ancient arc, the light leaving faster than it did the day before. Dusk beckons once more, and heavy clouds burst again, eager to cover even more ground.
Zillions of white bits fly from above, punctuating the growing darkness. I step outside and turn my face to the sky. I revel in the delicate touch of snowflakes on my bare skin, each unlike any other of its kind. Is there any rarer gift than this?
As you take over and see this agonizing year to a close, you bring hope for renewal and healing and brighter days ahead.
Welcome, winter.
Bette(r) Days celebrates the things that did not suck in 2020. Each day in December, we’ll be posting about the highlights of our collective garbage fire of a year, type-related or not.