It is one of those days. The kind of day I often wish for. The sky is quiet and gray. You can almost see the cold.

The trees stand barren and listless as if to say “I’m standing here but I’m not lonely, just waiting for another time.”

I am one that loves the cold. I treasure the first fresh nip as I step into the world each day.

I love the winter.

Give me a proper cold weather coat, a finely crafted scarf and a walk down a New York City street at Christmas time and I’m in heaven.

Cold weather suits me in every way which is odd for a girl born in the South. Most find it depressing and bleak wishing for warm, balmy beaches with immaculately arranged umbrellas.

Not me.

You’ll never hear me say “hey let’s take a trip to somewhere warmer.” I guess I was just hammered together differently.

You see, the season gives me a sense of peace.

A feeling that everything is going to work out. That the world does have order.

In short, it gives me Joy.

So, if you ever wonder where I might have wandered off to just check any place cold, you may find me there.