Open Letter to Winter

Dear Winter,

I know I said some things in the past. Words were exchanged. General ugliness ensued. Things haven’t always been the best between us. Last year, I was particularly cruel toward you. For this I do sincerely apologize. I had never before been in the position of paying my own heating bill. In a like vein, I had never before resided in such a drafty, old domicile. I had no idea you were such an expensive mistress to keep satisfied. I spent my Winter months last year cold, poor, and cursing you with every frigid, condensation-cloud spewing breath I took. I was angry with you. I swore up and down, slammed feet to the ground, and shook my tiny fist at your vast chill. I would have rent my clothes, but they were the only things keeping me from frostbite. I hated you. Yes, I did. There is no disguising the fact. I wished you would leave, never again to return to my life.

Apparently, you heard fevered longing of my soul, for you have kept your profile quite low this year. I know you are around. Occasionally, I feel your presence as an added bite to the wind, or see it in a frost covered windshield. Still, by and large you have not made yourself apparent. It’s been warm, quite warm for this time of year. Today it was sixty with sunshine, and we have not yet arrived in February. The past few months have been shockingly mild. Maybe you’ve only decided to take a year off. Maybe you’ve decided to move up stakes and never again enter my life.

Now, this is the part of the letter where you might expect me to see the errors of my way and beseech you with all the warmth of my heart to make a grand re-entrance onto the stage of my life. Sorry. That’s not how things have turned out. I have seen the year without cold winter. I have paid the heating bills afforded to me with your absence. I am happy. Really, I am. I’ve moved on. I don’t need you anymore. As a matter of fact, I’ve been seeing other seasons, three of them. They’re all nice in their own way. I am particularly fond of fall – also known as Autumn – with it’s earthy pallet and satisfying fallen-leaf-underfoot crunch.

Sure, we had some good times. I do remember the carefree surprise of the snow day with its hours of joyous mirth making. I remember snowmen, snow angels, snow forts, snow suits, snow balls, snow tunnels, and myriad other magical snow related items. They were good times. They really were. I may even be open to hanging out a little here and there. I think if you came over for just a week or two between fall and spring we could have a good time. But I do have some conditions. I want at least a foot of snowfall to occur overnight when I do not have to work in the morning. I don’t want any cold snowless days, or frigid arctic wind blasts. I want temperatures in the twenties. I want to be able to go out and enjoy you for a few days. I have a sled. I’d like to use it. But after a couple weeks, that’s it. I don’t want to see you anymore. You have to get out. Spring’s coming over and we have a lot of plans. I don’t think the two of you would get along.

So, Winter. Please, I know we were close and those memories are precious to me, but can’t you see that things are so much better this way. If you refuse to live by my terms, I may be forced to take drastic measures. I will move to warmer climes, pack up my tent and head on south. I could see myself quite happy in Florida, the Carolinas, or Texas. I might even visit here and there. I don’t want to see it come to this, but I am prepared to do whatever I deem necessary to keep my heating bill down.

Good luck, Winter. It’s been fun.

Shalom
James