I have been pushing myself to get outdoors lately- to bundle up Sage in wooley hats and fleece mittens and hope his cheeks do not turn red with shivers. I look up at the grand mountain grey and dreary, looming over the western side of town, clouds draped around it like steam rising from my cocoa cup. I cringe at the wind that brushes and tingles my face when I attempt to trek forth through my village. My motivation is the sun, whose warmth, although subtle brings a glimmer of hope, of happiness amongst the bitter blusters of late fall. After a quick jaunt around the block, I go to water my greens in the greenhaus and again am reminded of the sun, whose warmth melts the midnight's frost each day and keeps the greens from perishing. There is life! There is warmth! There is hope! In a tiny 8ft. x 5 ft. little haus behind my home I can be thankful for winter, for the life that manages to hang on through winter's song, through windy nights, and subtle sun. Those greens of spinach, kale, mesculin, mache, tatsoi, chard, and lettuce are so full of vitality, of strength, and sweetness that only winter's spell could bring!