I drove down the icy road this afternoon, past the snow-covered fields and realized, I love this season. I love the cold. I love the snow, I love the ice. I like to curl up in front of a blazing fire. I like to pad around the house in an extra sweater and slippers. I enjoy putting on a hat and scarf and warm gloves before I go out.
I miss the land of the spruce trees that I grew up in. The countryside is beautiful here, but the land everywhere belongs to farmers or some other person. There is no free land left. I miss skating near the flats below my home. I miss sliding down the bank. I miss crossing a frozen river to a nearby island to cook hotdogs over a blazing fire. I miss the ski-doos. I miss tunnelling in the snow.
You can take the girl out of the North, but you can't take the North out of the girl.