To say I have no love for winter would be an understatement. In fact, it’s only through my abhorrence for the freezing cold which has made me appreciate the sweltering humidity of Ontario summers.
But, dear internet, after my weekend in a snow-bound cottage, my tune has changed. I loathe at least 20% less.
It was a crazy couple of days of snowmobiling (oh yes, I did!) and igloo-building (oh yes, I watched!), and warming up by a roaring fire with a mug of hot buttered rum. I have to admit that I had way, way more fun than I thought and would gladly go again should the opportunity present itself.
When our lovely hosts took us 3km into the trails around the property, we all marveled at the untouched beauty and the complete silence of the woods. We were truly in nature’s cathedral, and it was awesome in the fullest sense of the world.
Don’t worry, I haven’t entirely lost my marbles. I still violently detest winters in the city, with the slush and the wind and the shoveling and the crap roads. But at least I’ll remember that it can be beautiful, too.
