I recently read a description of the month of January that conjured to mind a long forced march in a notoriously cruel POW camp — a horrid event one must endure to the bitter end because there is no other choice. Perhaps if I lived in New York City, as does the author of the piece I read, I’d feel the same about the most wintery month, but I doubt it. For one thing, driving is pretty much optional in NYC. But, also, I simply love January.

Compared to other months, January in northern climes supports contemplative thinking like a monastery abbot. The fun and (oh, so much) work of the holidays are over. Social demands all but vanish. The kids are back in school. Winter settles in like a chicken getting cozy on her nest, deeply hushing everything under her feathery body. If we are lucky enough to have snow, even the sounds of busy streets are muted. 

This January — unlike the past two when local ski slopes had to postpone the start of ski clubs due to un-wintery weather — is living up to my ideal. Throughout December, the weather was cold, but not cold enough to freeze. The ground remained muddy and so did my dogs. It was warm enough for me to hose down my large German shepherd and mid-sized Sheltie with admittedly frigid water. 

Then there’s my 9-pound, close to the ground, Yorkie Poo, Henry. His fine, curly hair secures remarkable quantities of dirt to his skin, released only by a vigorous shampooing in the kitchen sink, which he had everyday for the better part of two weeks. Then, on the first weekend of 2025, an Arctic freeze came to stay, eliminating Henry’s daily baths, thus making him another fan of January.

The longer the temperature remains well below freezing, the better for our environment. Warm winters encourage invasive plant and animal species to thrive and overtake native ones. Another benefit of the current extended cold is the death of more fleas and ticks than we had in the past two years — a demise most people, and certainly every dog owner, can celebrate.

The word apricity means “the warmth of the winter sun.” Those of us who love going outdoors in the winter well know that a calm, sunny day when the temperature is between 20 to 25 degrees feels warmer than when it’s 35 degrees but blustery and overcast. But even on those days, winter activities will keep anyone toasty.

With the right clothing (snow pants, warm coat, gloves, socks and boots), outdoor play is endlessly fun in Summit County. A full-length down coat I bought on clearance one spring keeps me perfectly comfortable on my daily 2-mile dog walk even when the temperatures drop into the single digits.

One Christmas I bought my now-adult sons hockey skates, sticks and pucks. They spent the next several winters knocking the pucks around the 2-acre skating rink at Big Bend Metropark. Citing climate change (read: too many winters where it was too warm to freeze the water in earthen basins rangers flooded to create the rinks), today the Metroparks have just one outdoor rink at Furnace Run.

Of the county’s many sledding hills, our favorite is at the end of North Hawkins Avenue. Steep enough for a lengthy and fast ride, the hill is not too steep for little kids to walk back up repeatedly. Last weekend, I had to promise my 12-year-old daughter, Lyra, hot cocoa and cookies if she’d stop sledding. We’d been there for two hours, the sun had set and it was time to make dinner. But Lyra wanted to keep flying down and trudging up that hill.

Lyra and her 14-year-old brother, Leif, participate in a school ski club at Boston Mills, as did their three older brothers. When my first two sons turned 18, I bought each of them a set of downhill skis and boots. Now ages 31 and 28, those sons ski at resorts around the country, often together, in their birthday skis. Next year, the big boys plan to take Leif on his first ski trip to New York’s Holiday Valley. Learning to ski as a child is the gift of a lifetime we are fortunate to have available in Northeast Ohio.

But whether you love being outdoors in winter or not, I can think of little else as cozy as sitting inside on a snowy January day with a warm beverage, a fire in the fireplace, a pot of stew, chili or soup on the stove while curled up on the couch under a blanket reading a book or visiting with friends and family. The Danish have a term for this quiet coziness of deep winter: hygge (pronounced “hue-guh”).

Happy hygge!

This column was first published in the Akron Beacon Journal on Sunday, January 19, 2025.