Artwork by Wayne McKinzie

I grew up in the midst of the deep, cold winters of the Midwest. And then, I lived many years without them. Perhaps it is some combination of these factors that has instilled in me such a wonder of this season – a longing for it.  In Winter, the air is brittle. Fog, snow and frost are mesmerizing.  The "face" and feel of the landscape are transformed.  Everything changes from Summer's green to a cloak of stillness and white: beauty stripped to it's essence. Quiet prevails. Light takes center stage. We wait to begin again.