I've never been one to like the cold.

Having been raised in Michigan and other Northern states amidst chilling winters and freezing temperatures, I've often given winter the cold shoulder. The weightless snowflakes that some find so beautiful have been like a disguised enemy to me. Masked in gentle white flakes, but once accumulated cause harmful road conditions and treacherous walkways.

But somehow, over the last few days, I've heard a whisper in the air. Seen a message in the desolate trees that appear barren and isolated. Oh, if winter could talk, I may have heard her gently share a lesson in my ears: