I really do love winter.
I love the cold, crisp, biting air that rushes around me when I ride my bike across town, not wearing enough warm layers and always rushing to the next warm place.
I love getting up to Meadows on a bluebird day and surfing slowly on fresh powder or taking huge, careful turns on the groomers, pushing the laws of physics to their limits.
I especially love the closeness that winter inspires. Last night, before I was even introduced to Dave's friend at the bar, I grabbed her hands and tried to share my warmth. Reunion hugs tend to last a little bit longer. People linger in each others companies at the end of a night out, hoping to delay the inevitable voyage through the cold.
And finally, the sunrises. I particularly enjoy our summertime gatherings at the Skidmore bluffs, playing games and sharing drinks as the sun sets over Washington Park. But catching the reds and oranges swirling behind that majestic Mt. Hood on the morning bike ride couldn't be a more perfect start to a wintery day.
