I milked my illness for one more day and as a result, my backside is officially flat as a pancake and my nose, a flaky mess. The drugs have been good - dried me up like the Sahara desert, leaving me with just the fatigue and aches to deal with. I have been far too familiar with my couch these days and I fear I've left a permanent indentation. I'd had enough by 2 pm and rolled into the shower to scrub off my illness and shrug off the fatigue.
It seems I've missed a few of the most frigid days this winter. The sun was bright in the sky but offered little warmth. After being inside for so long, the cold air and frozen nose hair were refreshing and a welcomed wake up call.
And although many complain about winter and claim to hate it, I enjoy the contrasts of the seasons. Winter paints glorious glistening portraits and sends us indoors to luxuriate in the warm and cosy. It provides guilt free hours to reflect, read, and hibernate. The driving is horrendous but the ice and snow embody our Canadianism and are part of our DNA.
It will be springtime soon enough and like the ornaments on the tree, our memories of winter will be packed away and long forgotten. But for now, I am reminded of the intrinsic beauty of the season in which animal, plant and human life slows down; the season that demands to be noticed, and in which peace is prescribed. And mostly, winter deepens our appreciation for the other three seasons! And for all four glorious seasons, I am so very grateful.