Winter Lasts Past Christmas

Growing up a lot of the years of my life in St. George, Utah and in the Florida panhandle, winter was the time of the year when you wore sweatshirts on occasion.  I associated snow only with Christmas since it was sung about in Christmas songs and depicted on Christmas cards and in Christmas decorations.

During my student teaching in St. George, a first grade teacher had put a snowman on her bulletin board in December.  When we returned from winter break, I was surprised to see that it was still there and remained throughout January.  I remember thinking that the season of snowmen had passed with Christmas and that the snowman should have come down by now.  Of course, I caught the error in my thinking and tried to retrain my brain into associating snowmen with the entire season of winter that lasted much later than December 25.

Even as I've lived in northern Utah these past three winters, my brain has not adjusted.

I am determined to enjoy winter this year.  I plan to go ice skating frequently (if not weekly).  I even bought snowshoes to use this winter.

But I have found myself in a panic realizing that Christmas is fast approaching, and I haven't begun to enjoy my new winter hobbies.  I try to usher out the anxiety that I am going to miss my chance to enjoy the snow this year since my schedule is pretty busy between now and my winter break from school.  I keep trying to tell myself that winter will last [long] after Christmas and that I don't need to panic.  But it is evident that my brain still cannot fathom that winter continues after Christmas.  There will be snow when I return to Salt Lake after my break.  I will have months of opportunity to participate in the good that winter has to offer.

But to calm my heart and mind, I will go ice skating this week, drink plenty of hot chocolate, and enjoy the snowy sights of the nearby mountains before heading south for the break just in case these things are no longer possible or fashionable when I return.

Nature at its finest

I like it when the storm lets up enough to allow for a most glorious sunset.

(Most of these pictures were taken from my car while driving down the interstate. One day they'll make a law against that as well.)

We got three or four inches of heavy, wet snow/hail last night.

It's May. I know.

By afternoon,

the weather warmed enough to melt it all off the roof.