Tyler Arboretum, January 2025. (Photos by Mei McNeill)

During one frigid winter morning recently, I sat outside on my balcony to get some fresh air. I remember feeling cold, but it was a nice feeling – refreshing. It’s around this time every year that I find myself feeling sad, almost as if the season’s dreary weather regulates my emotions. I have said before that my favorite season is autumn. My next favorite would be summer, then spring. That leaves winter to be my least favorite. I have always viewed the days in January and February as merely serving the purpose of passing time until March, when the spring equinox arrives. I act as if I am one of the hibernating animals, keeping myself holed up until the first signs of spring start to appear.

But on this one wintry morning, I took the time to sit outside on my balcony, where I have a prime view of the woods behind my home. I relished in the coziness of the moment, thankful for the opportunity to enjoy some peace and quiet outside, despite the chilliness of the air. The birds love to fly around and sing their songs in my backyard, and on this particular day they were doing just that. I recognized blue jays by hearing their call. I saw the striking red of cardinals among the bare branches. As I was sitting there, birdwatching and breathing in the frosty air while bundled up with a mug of hot tea, I found myself surprised that I was enjoying this moment out in the cold when I am usually miserable.

”What is The Point of Wishing Winter Away?”

Every year without fail when Christmas passes and the New Year has been rung in, I think to myself, “now what?” I fall into a habit of simply passing by the wearisome winter days that, ironically, seem to stretch long when in fact they are some of the shortest days of the year. I know that I am not alone in feeling this way. This practice can make one fixate only on what’s to come, ignoring the present and thinking of nothing else until you get what you want. For me, that comes in the form of good biking weather and beach days. I yearn for the warm weeks before the peak season when my husband and I drive out to where we beach and bike in Delaware. It’s those visions of sun and sea that cause my feelings of desolation in the dead of winter. I pine for spring and summer, as if nothing can cheer me up until I am basking under beams of sunlight again.

But as I sat outside that morning reflecting, I reframed my mindset of yearning for the warm weather. “What is the point of wishing winter away?” I thought. It does no good for me to spend the cold months thinking about what wasn’t there. Instead, I decided to focus on what nature had to offer me in the current season. The sun had peeked out from the clouds and shone on a stream in the woods, which is only visible during this time of year when the trees are free of their foliage. The light was hitting the water and made the stream shimmer in a way I had never noticed before. Additionally, the leafless trees gave more visibility to the backyard birds. I snapped some shots of a woodpecker and a cardinal, which were some of the clearest I’ve taken due to how empty the trees are. It was then that I learned to look for beauty to be found in the bleakness.

Noticing What Winter Lays Bare at Tyler

Invigorated with my new take on winter, I wanted to visit Tyler Arboretum to experience the outdoors through this fresh perspective. Another wintry day a week later, I took to Tyler bundled up, birding binoculars strung around my neck. I remembered to hone that mindset of appreciating what winter has to offer. As I started along my usual loop around the Native Woodland Walk, I discovered winter’s magic at Tyler Arboretum. The walkways were empty and quiet; my husband and I rarely encountering other visitors. This made for ideal birdwatching conditions! Something I picked up from a fellow birdwatcher is to use the Merlin Bird ID app that identifies a bird by recording its call or song. As we strolled around Tyler’s serene surroundings, my birdwatching app identified a Carolina Chickadee, a House Finch, and an American Goldfinch. As we continued along the Native Woodland Walk, I craned my neck to admire the towering trees. As I gazed above I remembered the countless visits to Tyler during the warm days when these wintry trees were once verdant. Rather than feeling sad for those spring and summer days, I felt thankful for them, all because of the bare trees before me. I didn’t look at the stripped trees with longing, rather, the lack of greenery made me value the abundantly lush trees more than I had before.

It was at this moment in Tyler that I learned another piece of personal wisdom: winter’s cold months also serve the purpose of helping me to appreciate the warm months of spring and summertime. I realized that I needed periods of frost and chill to serve as an interlude between my more preferable months. It’s similar to the idea that you can’t experience the good if you don’t know what it’s like to experience the bad. The stark contrast of winter amplifies the beauty I find in spring, summer, and even autumn. Winter holds its own reason for being as much as the other seasons do. Winter is a necessary break for nature as well as for humans. Just as winter is a time for the plants and trees to become bare before blooming again, people need a lull after the hustle and bustle of holidays. People need winter for reflection and rejuvenation during a season that offers its own kind of natural allure if you know where to look. This winter, I learned how to find that allure by changing my perspective of a dull and drab season. What’s more, this newfound perspective helped me to appreciate the other seasons even more so. But winter isn’t over just yet, and for the first time, I am not rushing it away. I will continue to spend these remaining winter weeks seeking solitude, whether outside on my balcony or on the tranquil trails at Tyler, looking at the winter trees not just for birds, but for fond memories of the foliage and blooms that will come in good time.