How I love January.

I love it all, from the clean, frigid air, to the chance for fresh starts, to the soft blues and grays of the winter landscape.

I love bare trees, branches exposed, naked arms twisting, turning, reaching for light.

I love the chance for snow, and giggles when it flurries, and the crunch underfoot, and red noses and mittens and wet dripping boots.

I love the sparkling icicles that hang from big rocks and house eaves.

I love firewood stacked, and big stone hearths, and the dance of fire, full burn.

And I love that smell. Oh I love the smoke of the winter fire smell.

I love thick books and warm fuzzy socks and good healthy pours of red wine.

I love hot soup–bubbling on the stove, steaming in a mug, dipped from  a bowl with a big giant spoon.

Flannel sheets, extra blankets, snuggly pajamas.

Down coats, fur hoods, thick knitted scarves.

Fat winter birds.

And I love the quiet. Of all the deep joy this civilized month brings, it is the quiet I cherish the most. It settles my soul, calms my heart, brings me back to me.

I love January.

30 Days of Joy