Comfort is the great enemy of adventure. It lulls us into complacency. It binds us to what we know instead of urging us to dig deeper. In the winder months it is comfort that begs us to sit inside, to become stagnant, to groan when the wind lashes out and the snow whips around. It is comfort that often causes us to miss beauty. Beauty is seldom discovered in your living room. It is found on winter nights when the air is so crisp it feels like it will crack; when the stars pulse with brightness and the moon hangs like a lamp in the blue night. Beauty is found in the absolute cold of a bright winter day when the sun hurts to look at and the blue of the sky is the only colour you see. It is found in the midst of a snowfall when the flakes hang off the trees bending their trunks into bowers. Beauty is overwhelming in the winter. It steals your breath and makes you feel small and terrified in its presence. Beauty is often found when we allow ourselves to become uncomfortable.