We wake to frosty alpenglow mornings. Out the window, a white pillow world is framed in glittering stalactites. The sun dazzles in the icicles. The cold pinches inside your nose. In the afternoon, clouds roll over the mountains and flood the valley in grey. The weather sets in again, the gloom rises up through the forest, and the darkness falls.
Winter is always so dramatic.
We spend the dark months contemplatively. Our creative spirits use this time of year to recharge and explore. We gather ideas and experiment. We shovel snow and pack firewood, and we try not to get discouraged by the Machiavellian melodrama that plays out in the world around us.
Colour in the darkness, I think to myself. It's in the darkness that our bright colours show their noblest hues.