Posted on 05 Jan, 2012 -
The bones of winter, the warmth of home
Why my daughters and I were walking in the howling wind and rain at 8.20 in the morning on a non-school day… and laughing all the way
A time to marvel at the ‘bone structure’ of the landscape
And for enjoying the warmth, the colour and the luxury of these shelters that we amazing humans make into homes
Dear Reader,
As the nation struggled to reluctantly get back on its feet this 3rd of January and start the whole bizarre ritual of the working week again, my daughters and I jumped eagerly out of bed to get them back to school.
My youngest daughter in particular has been missing all her friends and loves school. Even my eldest was able to vaguely recognise the feeling that there is only so much lazing about you can do before the desire for more order and structure to the day comes creeping in.
Either way, we were all actually quite enjoying the bracing walk through the raging wind and rain…
There is something very exciting about having your breath whipped out of your mouth by a huge gust of wind that hits you as you turn a corner. And there is something wonderful about the way the human race and the landscape in which we live survives all this winter bleakness, wetness and battering.
Just when you least expect it… joy in the world appears
Or so I was thinking in a warm haze inside my coat until it suddenly started dawning on us that we were the only people walking to school.
“They’re all driving!” we said to each other, laughing at what lightweights they were and congratulating ourselves on being happy in the bad weather. Indeed, it was not until we turned the corner and realised that there were no lights on in any of the classrooms that we realised the joke was on us!
School, I have subsequently discovered must have at some point changed the date for the first day back at school. This will teach me to study the newsletter more closely. Although the truth is that I’m GLAD we were up early. And I’m GLAD we had that wonderful walk in the dark and the wind and the rain.
As we walked back up the hill I marveled at how wonderful it was that I was laughing in the rain with my children, our human animation and warmth forming a real Ready-Brek advert glow in the darkness…
I marveled at the houses all around us and the human ingenuity and effort to create these buildings where we can hide in comfort from the elements. We may have come to a stage where we are questioning the right way forward for our nation, our culture, our humanness, our way of life, our morality… But we should not forget how amazing our achievements have been to this date.
The raging beauty of winter
Our crazy walk through the wind and rain has also made me determined to enjoy the beauty of winter.
It may not make us jump out of bed with joy when we hear the rain lashing against our window, but these are the powerful elements of the huge world that rages around us. We not only survive them, but we have the joy and comfort of electric lights, heating, cups of tea and other creature comforts that we have provided for ourselves and our family.
We are not cows in the field who have no shelter from these elements. We have created an internal world of warmth and colour for ourselves from which to enjoy this season in which the natural world sometimes seems to be ripping itself apart.
”Spring, summer, and fall fill us with hope; winter alone reminds us of the human condition.” said Mignon McLaughlin. But for me, winter is the time that shows just how much hope… how much positive energy… how much passion for life we humans really have.
Or, as Goethe saw it:
”Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.”
A time for intimacy… for poetry… for taking it easy…
Winter, said Ruth Stout, is a time for enjoying the intimacy of your own company:
”There is a privacy about it which no other season gives you. . . In spring, summer and fall people sort of have an open season on each other; only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself.”
It is a time for taking things a little more slowly and being a little more easy on yourself:
”Winter is the time of promise because there is so little to do - or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so.”
Stanley Crawford
It is also a time for enjoying a very different kind of beauty… a different angle on existence:
”I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.”
Andrew Wyeth
… and also for beachcombing and swimming in the sea!
And finally, if you’re feeling a little more adventurous and willing to put on a coat and step outside, Stephen Moss’s brilliant Bumper Book of Nature recommends:
If you feel really tough, why not have a swim in the sea?” The sea in December is warmer than it is on May Day, apparently, and because it’s cold before you get in, you may be amazed by how warm it feels!
Go beachcombing for shells and pebbles, cuttlefish bones… seaweed and driftwood or even bits of fossil or semi-precious stones. If you go after a winter storm, you may also find some stranded jellyfish.
On the same day, go to the same place to watch the sun both rise and set.
When it snows, put some snowflakes under a magnifying glass to marvel at the individual, fragile and complex beauty of each and every one.
Here’s to a winter of marvel, happiness and warm survival to us all.
