Joseph Shelton is a freelance writer who graduated from Montana State University with a degree in English Literature.  He lives in Bozeman, where he enjoys hiking, reading, and being a misunderstood artist-type. 

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This is one of my favorite times of the year.

Not the holidays, mind you, since I'm sure at least a third of our readers will agree with me for all their holly and jolly they are often six weeks of shrieking commercials, Santa idolatry and the cultural expectation that if you don't hemorrhage money violently you are a Scrooge. 

No, my favorite is just after Christmas when folks still have a modicum of holiday spirit, but none of the neurosis or urge to kill that sometimes attends those last minute Christmas shoppers.  Instead, there is a curious calm settled over everything like a light blanket of snow. 

It was someone at a book store that got me thinking about it.  Finding myself a little flush with gift money, I was looking for a particular book but the store was out of it.    "I'm so sorry!" said the clerk, a pretty blond girl, who winced like I was about to scream at her.  "That's ok", I said, and bought another one instead.

"You know," she continued.  "People sure are nicer after Christmas." 

The concern that had been apparent on her face speaks volumes about how as the holidays approach we have a tendency to get so bogged down in Holiday spirit that we can't see the forest for the trees, to mix metaphors.  While the reason for the season, we are assured, is our fellow men and women, we (or I, scrambling through racks for gifts before the store closes) sometimes forget that.

But that's not the only reason why the period after the Holidays is nice.  I am, as I have already mentioned, an inveterate winter hater, a snow-Scrooge.  But even so, I find myself starting to notice little things about winter that I actually like.  For instance, a short list of things I noticed just this morning: I enjoy the Thud! Thud! of children's winter boots on carpet.  I like the ornate arabesques left by the feet of little birds on otherwise undisturbed snow fields.  I love going to movies in the winter, when it feels like settling into the cave to be told a story.  And I love writing in the winter, since the cold and quiet is good for my thinking.

And so I come not to wish you a Happy Holidays (though I sincerely wish you and yours are having one), but to wish you a happy post-holidays slump. 

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