It’s January. And January is always a hard month for me to get through. It’s so cold. The wind howls outside. The snow piles up and often I’d rather just stay inside.
Maybe my feelings about winter are well described by Shakespeare in the first lines of his “Richard III” as “the winter of our discontent.” Winter could be described as an “unhappiness” or “discontent.” It is long, dark and cold. Not exactly a wonderful experience.