Bjorn’s poem reminds me of how ungrateful I can be when it comes to the weather. When it’s cold I wish for summer, and once summer arrives, I’m complaining about the heat.

Icicle-bearded,

wearing worsted wooland

well-laced boots

old man winter

came at last to visit,

frosting trees and painting

rosy cheeks on children

(and …

Finish reading here: Old man winter