Last year about this time, I talked about how as a Wiccan and a witch I felt a need to develop a love of nature in all its forms – even the wintry one that I simply held no affection for. We looked at some simple ways for the winter challenged to try and honor the season without compromising their warmth too much, and about working consistently on changing the way we think about our least favorite season. (Which applies to anything, really.)
Today as I was scraping the driveway after less than an inch of snow, it occurred to me that my perspective on winter had changed. It’s still my least favorite season by any stretch, but as I was reminiscing about growing up in a place where less than an inch of snow would shut everything down for the day, I realized that I’ve adapted.
I can appreciate the way snow looks piled in the yard (despite the fact that I still hate it on my car) and the way I feel all cozy inside looking out. I admire the way bare tree branches look with a thin layer of semi-melted snow. I’ve set my debut novel in late fall to winter, simply for the sensory information that it will add to the story as it progresses.
The lesson here is don’t give up on something because you don’t see results right away. Change can take time, and sometimes learning patience like Old Mother Winter’s is part of your growth. )O(
Peace, guys. ❤