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I love the look of winter.

Where I live it’s very neutral, bare and, what some might call, dismal.

I would rather refer to it as quietly beautiful.

Even though we seldom see the extravagant beauty of a blanket of freshly fallen snow here in Tennessee, I am still comforted by the quiet elegance that winter holds.

It’s the season that is simple and subtle. Not much show.

There is something a bit vulnerable and honest.

It’s a contemplative season.

All is at rest. And while it is resting, we are able to see inside to what’s normally covered with the abundance of growth and activity.

The incredible handiwork of God is further revealed.

Just like no two types of trees grow the same leaves, no two types of trees grow their branches in the same formation.

And when the trees are bear, the intricacy of these patterns is beautifully displayed against the grey skies of winter.


I don’t tend to add color in my yard December through February – I just let the season be what it is meant to be. And then I discover its beauty.

I wonder if we were forced to be quiet and still, shed the distraction of our busyness, what others might see.

Just maybe…

To our surprise…

It might be something beautiful.