Seasons to come

December 31 gets all the hype. And all the anti-climatism. While drunken revelers stumbled into the new year, I'd already celebrated the underdog of holidays—the subtle sleeper of winter solstice. What once was only a minor blip on my radar now radiates a much keener hope that never fails to deliver. The hope of longer days, cold though they are. The hope of winter finally come and only spring to look forward to.

It's easier to stand the cold water if you're already in it. Not so, the dread.