I'm one of those weird people who enjoy hunkering down for the winter. As long as I've got my pantry stocked and occasional sunlight, I'm just fine. The wintertime is actually my primo writing time. I tend to work very hard from January until about Easter on a new book, then I start being pulled aside for graduations, weddings, trips, conferences, you name it.
Luckily in the deep South, we aren't stuck inside for months. We get days in the 60s and 70s routinely. On those days, its nice to reward myself with a walk after writing for the day. This time of year is especially wonderful outside because last year's crop of bugs got taken out by some cold weather and this year's crop hasn't emerged. So it really is a time to frolic outside.
Our live oaks retain their leaves year round, so when I look outside, it doesn't look stark or barren like it does in colder climes. You can see that its winter though in the brownness of the grass, and of the brown salt marsh. Those will both green up in March and we'll be green all the way around until about next Thanksgiving.
We're a bit underpopulated down here and would like to keep it that way, so shh on the nice weather!