My husband hates the snow. In it he just sees bitter cold and heaps of work to shovel up. While I have sympathy for his disdain of winter, my own experience has given me a much different perspective.
I grew up in Oregon, close to the Cascade Mountain range. My family has a small cabin in the mountains and at some point in college I started going there by myself for weekends. Sometimes I was lonely, but I never quite felt alone. I was at a stage in life where I was searching for God and there were few places I felt him more closely than in the silence that can only be found in a snowy forest. I spent hours just walking, listening with attentive ears to the deafening quiet of the snow around me.
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