To those of you in the Upper Midwest:
(From http://www.infoplease.com/t/poetry/modern-verse/winter-ride.html comes the following poem by Amy Lowell):
A Winter Ride
Who shall declare the joy of the running!
Who shall tell of the pleasures of flight!
Springing and spurning the tufts of wild heather,
Sweeping, wide-winged, through the blue dome of light.
Everything mortal has moments immortal,
Swift and God-gifted, immeasurably bright.
So with the stretch of the white road before me,
Shining snow crystals rainbowed by the sun,
Fields that are white, stained with long, cool, blue shadows,
Strong with the strength of my horse as we run.
Joy in the touch of the wind and the sunlight!
Joy! With the vigorous earth I am one.
May this poem's richly textured vignettes inspire and comfort you as you slog through slush and snow this cold December.