Look, I'm not going to lie to you -- I hate winter. Hate. Sure, I spent four horrible miserable freezing winters in Syracuse back in the day and developed a +25 frost resistance and a bizarre appreciation for the smell of snow in the air, but that doesn't mean I ever liked the cold. Or the perpetual lake-effect precipitation. Or the landscape that was all done up in shades of beige and gray.
I'm tired of this weather, and yesterday's white-out right about killed me dead, honestly. Maybe it's because we just got back from one of the loveliest places on Earth, or maybe it's because I've been thinking about starting some seeds, or maybe it's because I can't find my Timberlands and I no longer fit into all that grunge-era flannel, or maybe it's because there are only two weeks left until spring, dammit, and I want to be done with winter already!
So, yes, perhaps we are having some seasonal affective issues again. Perhaps we are having trouble remembering that when "Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?" Perhaps this is because it's hard to find any four-leaf clovers when the entire yard is buried under 6 inches of bright white misery.
perhaps, we just need a little change in perspective.