like a brightly-lit classroom

January is like a brightly-lit classroom, full of loud voices, thick books, demands and promises. Frost in my hair, muscles cramping in the severe cold, cracked lips. Two layers of outdoor clothes to shed every time I enter a building.

Dark evenings, desperately popping vitamin D-pills to survive a paralyzing weariness. Struggling onwards. Impatient waiting for that first afternoon when it will be time to say: "It is definitely brighter than yesterday!"

Exquisite light phenomena - pink sunrays low over the ice, smoke in swirling patterns, a fog bank hovering over a stretch of open water. Ice crystals glittering in the air, a halo of intense rainbow colours around a bleak sun. Snow swirling around me, crunching under my boots, chilling my skin. Low clouds painted mustard yellow by city lights. Starry skies at night, a wolf moon, maybe even northern lights.

Walks on ice, silence, the beauty of a thousand shades of white. The joyous thought of hot coffee waiting in a warm room.