There is a certain calm in winter. Barren trees paint a bleak landscape, but upon closer examination, life still abounds. Songbirds, gray as the trees, flit despite January’s frozen kiss. Grasses, faded and brown, lay resting, rebuilding for their spring emergence. What began as the dreary, obligatory trudge of resolution became a wonder-filled amble.
Wonder is indeed a wondrous thing. Long dormant under the shackles of adulthood, mine emerged again on a New Year’s morning. Today the world collectively pushes the reset button. We all have the same 365 days. What we do with them, I think, is a matter of perspective. This year, I resolve to wonder what might be possible.
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