My memories don't hold winter much.
I remember rolling snowmen;
my father lacing up my iceskates;
and marshmellows melting in my cocoa.
My mind still reaches for the sweater that my mother knit just for me;
smiles at the thought of climbing back up, with our heavy wooden sled;
and the taste of pulling icy mittens off with my teeth once the school bell begged us to crunch and wade frozen for home.
Funny... it must have been cold.
Yet, somehow, I remember doing all of those things between gathering dandelion bouquets; building cities in the sandbox; and checking to see if the new kittens had opened their eyes.
Perhaps, 'wonder' make us warm?