This Week @ Monday Creek: Winter, writing, and snow in southeastern Ohio

Winter @ Monday Creek (c) Ohio USA

Winter, writing, and snow in southeastern Ohio

Winter arrived in southeastern Ohio this week with all the subtlety of a marching band in a library. One minute I was sipping coffee, admiring the last stubborn oak leaves clinging to the trees, and the next I was staring out the window at a snowstorm that looked like it had been choreographed by a weather intern with something to prove.

Zubie, my ever‑dramatic mare, waits every day for me at the barn. She greeted me today with that look horses have perfected—the one that says, “Finally. I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me to the elements like some Dickensian orphan.” Meanwhile, the barn cats, Whitey and Jesse, emerged from their hay‑fort like two furry landlords checking to see if I’d brought their favorite cat food.

Once everyone was fed, fluffed, and reassured that yes, they were still the center of the universe, I stood there for a moment, letting the quiet settle in. Snowstorms have a way of muting the world, turning even the most familiar spaces into something soft and magical. It’s the kind of atmosphere that makes you want to write… or at least pretend you’re going to write before getting distracted by hot chocolate.

Winter is, in many ways, the author’s season. The world slows down, the to‑do list shrinks under a blanket of snow, and suddenly the idea of curling up with a laptop and a story feels less like a luxury and more like a survival strategy. There’s something about southeastern Ohio winters—moody, unpredictable, occasionally rude—that nudges creativity awake. Maybe it’s the hush of the woods, or the way the sky turns that particular shade of pewter that makes you think deep thoughts. Or maybe it’s just that you physically can’t go anywhere without risking a dramatic wipeout.

Living here means embracing all four seasons in their full, theatrical glory. Spring arrives muddy and hopeful. Summer is lush and loud. Fall is a show‑off in the best way. And winter? Winter is the quiet friend who shows up with blankets, forces you to slow down, and reminds you that rest is part of the rhythm.

As Albert Camus once said, “In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” And honestly, southeastern Ohio makes that feel true—especially when you’re standing in a warm barn, listening to a horse munch hay while ice taps gently on the roof.

Here’s to winter storms, cozy barns, bossy mares, pushy barn cats, and the kind of cold that makes creativity spark. And here’s to southeastern Ohio, where the seasons keep us on our toes and the stories never stop coming.