Winter waiting

Winter seems to be a time for waiting.

Ever notice that? Once the holidays are over, most of us can’t wait until spring.

Poets and prose writers often lament winter:

“Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it. We know it.”
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?”
– Percy Bysshe Shelley

“No winter lasts forever, no spring skips its turn.”
– Hal Borland

Baseball players, too:

“People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.”
– Roger Hornsby

It seems to me that much of winter is spent wanting it to be over and looking forward to spring. Seems like wasted time somehow, but much of life is about waiting, anticipating good things to come, and realizing in the winters of our lives our own ability to endure:

“In the depths of winter I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer.”
– Albert Camus

Or not…

“I like these cold gray winter days. Days like these let you savor a bad mood.”
– Bill Watterson

Winter is the only time of year when you can get away with blaming your grumpiness exclusively on the weather. There’s something deeply liberating about that, don’t you think? (I’m mostly only kidding…Okay, not really.)


This post is part of the One Word at a Time blog carnival hosted by my friend Peter Pollock. For more posts about winter, please visit his site,

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