I'm not a fan of winter. In fact, my feeling borders on disdain. I've got a friend who loves winter. He takes the most beautiful photos you'll ever see while hiking in nature... in the dead of winter.
I guess that's why I'm not a fan... that whole "dead" thing. But I've been trying to appreciate winter for its beauty despite the effect it has on my fingertips and toes, not to mention my garden.
Now in summer, those morning strolls come easily but, in winter, it becomes a challenge. To help accomplish my goal of appreciating winter more, I committed to taking a walk when the temperature climbs above 25 degrees. I do have exceptions to this rule — they include blizzards, snow, freezing rain, high winds, and other inclement conditions.
In summer, it's light outside by 5am and I feverishly take photos as new wildflowers and discoveries in the ditch emerge. On my winter walks, it's dark and I have to walk with a headlamp. I still deliberately seek out beauty. It's there. Yes, even in winter. I think that's true in the winters of life, too.
I used to write a lot of poetry and song lyrics. As of late, I confess I haven't felt compelled to do so. But I recall walking among the barren trees and snow-encrusted ditches. They spoke to me one winter day
and I had an urge to put it to word.
Like many others I know, I feel closest to the Creator when I'm in his Creation. It's like I'm in the middle of his cathedral. While I enjoy gathering with others to fellowship and sing songs of praise, I feel most free to worship in a chapel without walls that was crafted by God's own hand.
I hope you enjoy...
Each Season’s Cathedral
Where once like a desert Now swift rapids flow The ice has succumbed To the current below And seeds sown in autumn Arise from their sleep Defying despair Rejecting defeat The bloom of a crocus Will push through the snow Declaring hope As its manifesto The chatter of chickadees Song of the lark Awaken the sunrise And rebuke the dark The chorus of creatures Of none, there is equal It’s Spring’s hallelujah It’s nature’s cathedral... And soon all the forest Is teaming with laughter The trees are announcing The next season’s chapter A vast canopy And everything lush A spectrum of color From God’s own paintbrush Purple and orange And yellow and green Summer’s arrival Bursts on the scene In every garden Beauty abounds And every footstep Feels like holy ground Where you soar over troubles On wings like an eagle Carefree and joyful In Summer’s cathedral... And soon an explosion Of crimson and gold Releases creation From summer’s stronghold The skies of September With ominous clouds Scatter leaves on the earth Like a blanketing shroud The ripe vines of harvest Languish and wither And cold, bitter winds Cause creation to shiver The flocks, they assemble For one more goodbye Carried by breezes They take to the sky Each whisper of change Is sacred and solemn And their praises arise In cathedrals of Autumn... Then tree branches crack And creatures, they slumber The snow forms a cloak To what lies asunder Lakes form a shell And frost starts to heave Icicles form And it hurts just to breathe The animals forage Condemning the cold Longing for days From summers of old But stop now and listen Be reverent and still Embrace your soul’s longing In this season’s chill And trust in the promise Of another Spring sequel There will always be hope In Winter’s cathedral.
