I’m a summer guy. If you asked me if I would rather be outside in 100 degree heat or in 15 degree cold, I’ll be happy to sweat. To me, the calendar seems unfair. I feel like we get six months of winter, two months of summer, with a couple of weeks of spring and fall thrown in between just because.

That said, we either tolerate the cold, the snow, the gloomy skies or we find reasons to enjoy the winter that is often with us Pocono Mountain people right up until the month of May.

I’ve taken a closer observance of this season through a window from my warm living room while I was writing this column.

I feed the songbirds. Cardinals, chickadees, dark-eyed juncos and a woodpecker or two provide me with entertainment all day long. The birds are like children. Some are bullies and scare away other birds while they eat seed at the feeder, yet some do not mind sharing their feast with their little feathered friends.

I take delight in observing their patterns of flight. A little chickadee darts from a backyard tree to the feeder like it’s surfing a wave, riding the air up and down until it happily lands and grabs a seed. Then it flies back to the tree only to complete the same act all over again. I think the cardinal knows that it’s the most beautiful bird in the season. It’s bright red plumage, a mask of Zorro upon its eyes, and a banana yellow beak are vivid contrasts against the stark gray sky, black barren trees and what’s left of the fading snow.

American painter Erin Hanson wrote, “… the birdsong might be pretty, but it’s not for you they sing. And if you think my winter is too cold, you don’t deserve my spring.”

Speaking of the snow that has to be shoveled and driven through at times, I am glad it is white and not black or gray or brown. The snow displays the beautiful purity of Mother Nature, especially when it lies upon the naked tree branches, an extraordinary sight I shall never take for granted.

American poet Mary Oliver wrote, “Snow was falling so much like stars filling the dark trees that one could easily imagine its reason was nothing more than prettiness.”

Perhaps the most wondrous thing about winter is its stillness. My since-passed friend Brad Dilly, while dying of cancer, would drive his truck to the edge of a frozen lake in the middle of February. “Rich, I embrace the scene before my eyes,” he said. “There is no life and nothing moves. The perfect stillness opens my mind to the beauty I feel in my soul. I swear I can hear my heart beat, and even though that beat will soon be silenced, just like the silence and the stillness before me, I will become one with nature within this same peaceful quiet that I feel here right now.”

In winter, the sun fails to warm the land, but after several days of gloomy skies, I am reminded that the presence of its radiance never leaves us alone. No matter how many dark days we have to tolerate in nature and in life, the sun will shine the light in our eyes again, giving us the motivation to face a new day.

Of course, the outdoors of winter moves most of us indoors, which provide us with a wonderful opportunity to share good conversation with friends and family that would not ordinarily happen in summer. Author Edith Sitwell wrote, “Winter is the time for comfort, for good food, and warmth, for the touch of a hand and a talk beside the fire; it is the time for home.”

Tis’ the season that challenges the way we think. Winter is either ugly, cold and locks us in the house, or winter is splendid, opens the heart and allows the opportunity to reinforce our relationships.

As with anything else in life, the way we think about winter is a choice we make. It’s a matter of interpretation when we look out the window on a late January morning. For me, I see a reflection of myself at the age I am and a time to realize how much my life has changed with the passing of the seasons.

Nature is a metaphor for human experience. We have sunny days, cloudy days and hot and cold moments with others. How can we feel joy if there is no sadness? How can we appreciate summers if there are no winters?

For those of you who still yearn to find the benefit of this time of year, I give you the words of French writer Charles Baudelaire:

“I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on, the windows and the stars illumined, one by one

The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,

And the moon rises and turns them silver. I shall see

The springs, the summers, and the autumns slowly pass;

And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,

I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,

And build me stately palaces by candlelight.”

A winter night is a romantic’s dream come true. Think not that Valentine’s Day be the only reason to do something special. Why not surprise a loved one with a home-cooked dinner served under candlelight with the soft sounds of favorite music lifting over a beautifully prepared table? Make no excuses. Plan it. Do it. The night will make a memory not soon to be forgotten. And if the event works out to perfection, offer gratitude to where it belongs.

Look out the window and give thanks to Mother Nature for her season of winter.

Email Rich Strack at richiesadie11@gmail.com