The seasons are so fascinating to me; how they come in the same order every year patiently waiting to grace us with their presence. Each one has its own personality. Yet spring, summer, fall nor winter ever fail to surprise me with their wide range of temperatures. I have to admit though, winter happens to be my favorite. The first winter morning is the best; it sets the tone for the next 3 months of our lives. As I step outside to take a walk, the temperature feels like its dropping twenty degrees every second. The brisk wind hits my body, numbing my fingers and toes. My ears start to freeze and my nose gets runny; it feels like icicles are forming at the tip. It's so quiet; not a child playing or a bird chirping. The grass and bushes are covered in frost blankets and the trees stand naked, waiting for spring to come and return their clothes. The sun is shining bright yet you don't get to feel its rays, it's like a huge light bulb in the sky shining light on our path. The streets are foggy and lonely, but I am not alone for the wind whispers and sings to me keeping me company. Although the winter mornings are full of surprises, the winter sporting events are even more exciting. I don't know what it is, but no one shows more school spirit during any other season like they do in the winter. The baseball, softball, and especially basketball games are normally packed to capacity with people. I have to admit, the student sections are the best to watch. Bundled up in their coats and boots, they cheer for their favorite players and scream at the opposing team. Their faces full of fear and excitement all at once. While half of them watch the score board, the other half watches the net or the plates. I think the parents might have the student section beat though. When I see a parent stand up yelling at his/her child I see all the dedication, the devoted time and belief they have, yet not only in their child but in the team as well. When thos