Sweater Weather

Oh, how I long for the sweltering days to die into winter winds. You may not agree though. My mother does not.

Yes, I bought both of these sweaters. And yes, I'm a very happy girl because of it.

There is just something about winter that meets me where I am and makes me feel full. Maybe it is the secret whisper in the wind. Or the chill that razes my skin. The dark nights that feed my imagination. My mind festers with thoughts in these ways.

My best writing comes in the winter. I usually plan my book-writing days around the seasons. If it is summer, I spend my time planning and practicing for what will come. Then, when the temperature begins to fall, I pull out my keyboard and set off to typing. As the leaves finally begin to give way, my thoughts vibrate in excitement.

Which story should I slave away at this winter? Which one will be the most fun?

Just as you would pick up a fallen leaf and admire its unique markings, so also I admire my ideas this way. One may be just a piece of a full leaf. One might be red, or green or yellow; be the home of a critter. One is not better than another, but one might call my soul farther out than another. It might be the story my soul craves to tell. That is the one I will keep and grow. That is the one to accompany me in the winter.

So do you see why I find myself so often in the cold? Why I run wildly into the season? With it comes the return of a secret world. One worth exploring.

I'm excited to get to explore it this time with you.