I'm different. Some people seem to feel the need to remind me of that fact on a regular basis. It's not like I don't already know it. It also doesn't bother me to be thought of as different. The last week has brought out a long line of people who are ready and willing to tell me how odd I am.
You see - I love winter.
Short days.
Long nights.
Cold.
Wind.
Snow.
I love it all.
Maybe part of it is because winter lets everyone else get a glimpse of how the world looks to me every day; a collection of grays and subdued colors. Maybe part of it is because I love a fresh covering of pure white snow blanketing the landscape. Maybe part of it is because I find few things more beautiful than glistening ice clinging to tree branches - dazzlingly beautiful as it refracts and reflects the sun's rays.
Most people think of winter as something to be endured. I think of it as something to be embraced.
I know that somehow makes me different, and that's okay.
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