After a week of denial, I am ready to acknowledge that it is winter where I live. The sun is so low in the sky that it never quite clears the trees on the other side of the neighbor's house. Yesterday the sun remained behind a thin layer of mist all day, as if it were embarrassed to show itself more fully.
At the same time, I am thankful that we are not buried in snow like last year. The local paper has been running small articles about how things were back then, and it seems surreal, though I was there and know the stories to be true. Instead of snow, we have consistent cold, hard frozen ground, and that shy, retiring sun making its way across the edge of the sky each day.
In the midst of all this I was warmed by the thought that I'll be riding my bike in earnest in two month's time. Two months isn't so long to wait. In the meantime, I'm thankful for a warm house, a nice cup of tea, and such light as old Sol is willing to shed.