Winter. This one word inspires in many Iowans a unique variety of dread — the kind created by our knowledge that we’ll soon be buried in snow up to our tailbones and have to stumble out of bed twenty minutes earlier in the morning just to jackhammer the ice off our windshields. And don’t even mention the blistering cold winds that will numb our faces and fingers virtually to the point of hypothermia as we walk between classes and buildings.

But now, in early November, when things are just beginning to cool down and everyone is busy complimenting each other on spiffy scarf, hat and glove ensembles, there is time to contemplate the aesthetic beauty of an Iowan winter and thank Mother Nature for being so efficient in her handiwork.

That’s right — I said thank. Winter holds much more to be thankful for than you might think.

First, consider this: In what other season does nature appear so unified as in winter? Under a blanket of snow, every tree, hill and field is brought together to lie in peaceful harmony. Even things not naturally occurring in nature, such as cars and houses, are seemingly submerged with the earth with one flurry of white.

After all of autumn’s leaves have fallen and the birds have all migrated south to sunnier climes, an Iowan winter contains a stillness and serenity that one can only come to appreciate over time. Surveying the powdery landscape, it seems everything is frozen in time — figuratively and literally.

This is where the intensity of Iowa’s winter scenery comes in. While nature is so quiet and uniformly colored, it also dazzles us with a brilliance of multi-faceted, radiant lights. Especially when snow first falls, its freshness allows for the sun to illuminate the many luminous colors it contains. Snow’s infinitesimal hues flicker from purple to green to blue in quick succession as you move, providing you with millions upon millions of different ways to view the landscape.

In the night, however, moonlight creates another way to view the wintry landscape. As it casts a bluish tint over the snow, the land can be viewed as a mysterious realm of shadow and light, keeping its secrets half-hidden under the cold watchfulness of the stars.

Winter’s ability to change the entire environmental mood in a matter of hours without anything more than a sunrise or sunset is a sign of its complexity.

Winter’s moods and intricacies can evolve quickly and subtly while taking on entirely different overtones. It seems so simple, yet in that simplicity lies the unseen effort it takes to make those transformations look effortless.

However, while simply considering those things may improve your experience of winter, they will not in themselves complete your understanding of it. In order to do that, you need to appreciate the function of winter within the seasonal cycle.

Although most people view winter as a period of ecological death — which it is, in a sense — an Iowan winter ultimately does good things for the earth. Heaps and heaps of snow being dumped upon us may not seem like such fun, but Mother Nature keeps piling it up on us for her own purposes: In the spring, when all the snow melts, it provides the water which will give spring its first push toward the rebirth of plants and trees.

The seasonal cycle is something we all learned about in elementary school, but the seasons’ wondrous demonstration of earth’s self-perpetuation and efficiency is something I believe we’ve come to despise as a mere inconvenience.

All of Iowa’s seasons work together to perpetuate growth, and each could not exist without the others. Our summer could not exist without spring’s period of regrowth, just as our spring could not exist without winter’s store of water to push it into existence, providing nature with the means to basically build itself anew.

It may or may not be something nature intended, but winter also provides humans more opportunities for “regenerative growth” as well. Studies have shown winter’s long, dark nights and cold weather drive people together indoors, resulting in a high number of births from May to September, according to an article from the BBC News. There is also a peak of births in September, nine months after Christmas conceptions.

So next time you curse winter for the cold wind smacking you in the face, just think of the beauty and richness an Iowan winter provides you — it could make a difference.

Maybe.