I am not sure when or why this changed, but lately, I have been appreciating the beauty of winter. Not just the sparkling coating of ice that shines on some mornings or the new fallen snow under a clear, star-light sky, but the stark, bare trees and the dormant fields and lawns surprise me with homely allure on my ventures in the world. I imagine that the trees’ roots reaching underground in a pattern that mirrors the expanse of the branches, providing home to unseen creatures, the golden fields resting in anticipation of the coming spring.
And I think about the unknown depths of the human heart where we carry so much more than can be seen by casual glances. But if we really look, might we see a different kind of beautiful?