I am wandering towards the mountains and it’s getting colder, but that’s okay, I missed the cold. I missed the sharp air of winter, the sight of my breath turning in to a pale fog as it floats away and the low humming of the earth that seems to come with the snow. It warms me, in a way. See, Everything can live in the summer: insects, birds, plants and trees, but then Autumn comes and the insects die, the birds fly south, and the plants and trees wither. The aftermath is winter, with it’s harsh presence everything is either gone, dead or resting. Everything, except for me. 
For I am one of the few blessed beings on this planet that gets to experience the embrace of winter. Therefore I invite winter and immerse into it, and within its harsh presence I dwell, it’s where I belong.

By Ross Nordell