This is January in Minnesota. It descends upon the landscape like a heavy blanket of cold dusk and desolation.Yet, it always brings with it an unexplainable comfort. It's as if the Earth is cocooned in a cozy layer of frost and nearness. The sky isn't limitless; the stars are absent. A quiet covers the landscape and humans hunker down. Those of us born and bred in this climate dig in and accept the dark and cold and make the very best of things. We pull out flannels. We tug on boots. We listen for the hushed sounds of the crystalline cold.
It makes no sense, but my soul is revived by this bleak scenery.
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