There is something special about the first day of snow. Autumn and spring are not seasons, they are transitions between the only existing ones. So does that make winter the definitive end of one season or the beginning of another one? Is it the end of the world and life as we've come to know it during summer?

Winter carries with it a beauty in all its destruction. The day is chased away by the night only to re-surface for a few meager hours when night is not watching. Night does however do its best to restore some sort of order and balance and lets snow brighten even the darkest nights and on the coldest and harshest days we are rewarded with as many stars in the sky as we can possibly handle. And a moon so bright we are mesmerized by it and all memories of the warm summer nights seem as nothing but a memory, a dream which never in reality took place.

Love during the winter months may well be something completely different from the love summer offers. With temperatures dropping, a need for closeness is rising. Love may seem to slow down, but is actually growing stronger as we draw closer to one another in search for a warmth so sorely needed by our bodies.

Now is the season of destruction, of darkness, of slumber, but now is also the season of closeness and inner warmth. Bright stars light up the seemingly ever-lasting darkness and in our search for warmth we all become one as we draw nearer and nearer.

Beauty in death and beauty in life.