Last winter I survived by running away to Alaska, where it never gets properly dark in June. This year I'm surviving by making sure I do something I enjoy every week, and that I focus on those things.
But there is something about winter that I have always loved - the bones, the bare bones that get to show their beauty unimpeded.
With fewer trees and less grass, the bare bones of the land are easier to see. I love the way the land folds and creases,
I remind myself that even stripped down to their skeletons, these trees have not abandoned life: their sap is still within, waiting for spring; and hanging on the twigs of some, berries, seeds waiting to make new plants.