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When people bring up seasonal moods, it’s almost always about depression in winter. Which is an understandable phenomenon, given the colder weather and especially the relative lack of light. I’ve always found that I like winter, though. There’s a certain peace to be found on cold morning walks, in the condensation of your own breath in the air, in the glimmering snow, in geese sleeping on frozen ponds (though I know not everybody has these things or finds a romanticism in them). Gotta enjoy it while it lasts — cue “back in my day” climate change rant. For me, instead of a winter sadness, I’m noticing an emerging pattern where the shift into spring brings a certain melancholy. Maybe it’s that the slow rebirth of the environment around me leads to more introspection than usual. How should I renew myself? I think a lot about my relationships and the ways I structure my life, the ways I think I need to change. When I have any time to think, that is. The world comes to life again and we all quicken our paces. I miss those morning walks.




