In More Matter: Essays and Criticism, John Updike shares an essay titled "The Cold."
"Cold is an absence, an absence of heat, and yet it feels like a presence — a vigorous, hostilely active presence in the air that presses upon your naked face and that makes your fingers and toes ache within their mittens and boots. Cold is always working, it seems — busy freezing water in the ponds and rivers, knitting intricate six-sided snowflakes by the billions, finding cracks around the walls and windows of your house, forcing furnaces in the cellar to roar away. Cold fights you — it doesn't want your automobile engine to ignite in the morning, and once your car is on the highway it clogs its path with snow and slush. A whole secondary world of dirt, of sand and salt, is called into being by the cold, and an expansive and troublesome array of wearing apparel — mufflers, earmuffs, wool-lined boots and gloves, parkas, leggings, long underwear, and knitted face-masks."
— from Winter
Don't fight with the cold and allow it to deplete all of your energies. It is very easy to make winter into a terrorist out to bring us harm. When your furnace breaks down or your car doesn't start in the morning, talk kindly to it. Let go of your idea of controlling the day or villainizing the season. Just go with what shows up — with the ice, the snow, and the cold.
— Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat in Practicing Spirituality in Winter