Winter’s not the favorite, is it? It’s a cold, austere reality.
A lot of us, though, we need the winter months. Like bulbs, or trees, we need a bit of cold. We need a dormant period. We need the winter.
I do a lot of fall photos. The changing leaves and autumn colors make a lovely picture. But honestly, I don’t like fall.
Fall leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Like I’m trying my best to hold on to summer, and it’s hopeless. Like I’m not ready. I’m stubborn and refusing. Refusing to turn my head. Refusing what lies ahead, I suppose. Like a little kid who’s stubborn and refusing to take medicine. Mouth shut tight. The head jerks left, then right.
That’s how I engage with fall.
But winter to me is fresh. It’s snowed in and pulling on a heavy blanket. It’s sloppy clothes and old movies. It’s night-time, and it’s dark, and it’s sledding down a hill with nothing but worn-out bell-bottom jeans and a floppy piece of card-board between your butt and that cold frozen ground.