to write an open letter to Winter
Frankly, I am fed up with its "bad party guest" attitude and determined it was time; I have read so many open letters to ____ recently that I figured maybe if I wrote one to Winter he would listen up:
We have multiple divination tools to determine what mood you're going to be in all season. As though knowing what is coming will help us to not hate you so much. There is a man that chews on pig spleens, and he is oddly and uncomfortably accurate in his predictions. But they are vague predictions, so we can't really be too surprised when he says "snowy" and we get snow in December. The onion skins can give us a hint as to how you might behave, if the skins are thick and tough, we know to bundle up because you will be long and insufferable. If an onion's skin (that was grown in our back yard, not in Mexico) is thin and flakes off easily it suggests you will be mild and tolerable. Don't forget that we also have almanacs, the fat on game meat, and the type of summer to help us determine your upcoming flare for the dramatic.
What I cannot understand is, why you are so rude when you come to our door. You are grumpy and mean. I refuse to call you a woman, you really are Old Man Winter, and I will not associate such a rude season with a female (they already did that with hurricanes and learned their lessons). Winter, you are awful at the beginning. You show up early and uninvited, you invade Autumn's time to shine and I think Autumn is starting to tire of it, that's why she sheds her leaves so readily, she knows you always come too soon.
You bring bitter wind and driving rain that turns to hail and snow, then freezes and turns our roads into skating rinks for a day or two. We pull out our big jackets, and then you're all, 'psych, I'm not here yet' and we get a +5 day Autumn day to enjoy, followed by -22 the next. It's just plain incorrigible, I have experienced 31 of these starts and you never change your tactic. You are a one-trick-pony and it's time to learn a new dance.
Why winter? Why don't you come in gently like Spring or Fall? They are such nice girls. Or gradual and slow like Summer eases its way into our hearts like the smooth casanova that it is? Why do you have to blow open my front door, tromp into my house with your wet feet and put them up on my nice coffee table, boisterously laughing, while you shrug your shoulders and yell "deal with it" at me. You're so impolite, if you were a real guest you would be off my list permanently.
I don't hate you, Winter. I enjoy so many things about your beauty. Your hoar frost is breathtaking, and the cozy white blanket that makes everything look clean and beautiful is so peaceful. I love the way you make lights twinkle, and how snow is like a blanket of white glitter everywhere and the snuggling romance that you cause. Heck, I like you so much, I even had my wedding in your season. But it takes convincing to warm up to you, or waiting until you show your true beauty that I can actually say that I like you. And I often forget I like you because you are so rude to me.
This leaves me to question, are you so mean because, like a kid on a play ground getting bullied, the only thing you know how to do is to bully in return? We complain and berate you for being an unwelcome guest that is gross, cold, paralyzing, a nuisance, and inconvenient, but if I heard someone talk about me in the way I talk about you, I know I would be a rude house guest too. Maybe if we were all a little nicer to you, Winter, you might consider returning the niceness? Start out with that pretty Saturday snowfall where everyone sleeps in and wakes up under the universal blanket of white with softness all around?
Please Winter, I hope that you consider it, for your own sake, and for our relationship's sake, your rudeness is starting to overshadow your astonishing beauty.