Winter is the ultimate season in my opinion. Yes I like autumn, spring and summer but there is something very magical about winter.
I love nothing more than crunching through snow, running home in the rain and snuggling up in a thick winter jumper. And, if I may be so honest, I look pretty damn cute in a hat and scarf.
I’m not sure whether winter’s delightful connotations of childhood excitement makes it such a good season but I guess that could be a factor. I, like a lot of other people, adore Christmas. I must admit I hate the consumerism of it all but I love the gifts, the general happy mood and, of course, the food. So maybe that’s why I love winter because it houses one of my favourite celebratory occasions.
Or maybe it’s because it reminds me of a couple of years ago when, around the time of Christmas, I was in a rather lovely relationship. I think that plays a large part too. Winter reminds me of times I was truly happy.
It could also be because my granddad died very close to Christmas. Surely that’s not a good thing, I can imagine you thinking. And you’re right, it was awful. But when he died I was suddenly made aware of what a brilliant man he was. I mean I knew it all along but you don’t really realise what you’ve got until you’ve lost it. And so I use winter as a time to reflect on all the awesome times I had with him.
That’s not to say that good things haven’t happened in autumn, spring and summer but more that winter just makes me the happiest. And I cannot wait for it to be truly be winter.