I think about this seeming paradox a lot these days as I drive up to Buffalo and back to Olean through the hills of Western New York. One of the first things that strikes me as I meditate on this paradox is that it is not just the real snow and gloom that people are concerned about, but it becomes a kind of symbol of whatever it is in their lives that is negative. If you look at a real winter landscape there is actually a lot of beauty to be seen there. It requires a closer inspection to see this beauty, since it is not as obvious as it is in the spring or autumn. But that is fitting in a way, since the time of year almost requires us to slow down and take our time.
Winter is also a time when the underlying structure of things becomes much clearer.
The shape of the earth and the trees becomes apparent in a way that is hidden by the lush vegetation of the spring and summer. Creeks and streams become visible, as do meadows and clearings up on the hills. There is nothing wrong with vegetation, of course. In fact, without it we could not live. But there is something life-giving also about letting our selves enjoy the underlying structure of things, giving ourselves over to the beauty of gray and white and black.