People don't notice whether it's winter or summer when they're happy.

People don't notice whether it's winter or summer when they're happy.

Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.

Winter is not a season, it's an occupation.

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou build thy dark,
Deep-founded read more

O Winter! bar thine adamantine doors:
The north is thine; there hast thou build thy dark,
Deep-founded habitation. Shake not thy roofs,
Nor bend thy pillars with thine iron car.

I grew up in New Hampshire. My closest neighbor was a mile away. The deer and the raccoons were my read more

I grew up in New Hampshire. My closest neighbor was a mile away. The deer and the raccoons were my friends. So I would spend time walking through the woods, looking for the most beautiful tropical thing that can survive the winter in the woods in New Hampshire.

People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare read more

People ask me what I do in winter when there's no baseball. I'll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.

Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.

Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for read more

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems read more

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.

When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar;
Around their read more

When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar;
Around their home the storm-pinched cattle lows,
No nourishment in frozen pasture grows;
Yet frozen pastures every morn resound
With fair abundance thund'ring to the ground.