I read Wintering for the first time this last March and I still think about it often. Thank you for this post and the invitation to re-read my favorite words from it.
"Winter is a quiet house in lamplight, a spin in the garden to see bright stars on a clear night, the roar of the wood-urning stove, and the accompanying smell of charred wood. It is warming the teapot and making cups of bitter cocoa; it's stews magicked from bones with dumplings floating like clouds. It is reading quietly and passing away the afternoon twilight watching movies. It is thick socks and the bundle of a cardigan."
"Here is another truth about wintering: you'll find wisdom in your winter, and once it's over, it's your responsibility to pass it on. And in return, it's our responsibility to listen to those who have wintered before us. It's an exchange of gifts in which nobody loses out."
"When I started feeling the drag of winter, I began to treat myself like a favoured child: with kindness and love. I assumed my needs were reasonable and that my feelings were signals of something important. I kept myself well fed and made sure I was getting enough sleep. I took myself for walks in the fresh air and spent time doing things that soothed me. I asked myself: What is this winter all about? I asked myself: What change is coming?"
I read Wintering for the first time this last March and I still think about it often. Thank you for this post and the invitation to re-read my favorite words from it.
"Winter is a quiet house in lamplight, a spin in the garden to see bright stars on a clear night, the roar of the wood-urning stove, and the accompanying smell of charred wood. It is warming the teapot and making cups of bitter cocoa; it's stews magicked from bones with dumplings floating like clouds. It is reading quietly and passing away the afternoon twilight watching movies. It is thick socks and the bundle of a cardigan."
"Here is another truth about wintering: you'll find wisdom in your winter, and once it's over, it's your responsibility to pass it on. And in return, it's our responsibility to listen to those who have wintered before us. It's an exchange of gifts in which nobody loses out."
"When I started feeling the drag of winter, I began to treat myself like a favoured child: with kindness and love. I assumed my needs were reasonable and that my feelings were signals of something important. I kept myself well fed and made sure I was getting enough sleep. I took myself for walks in the fresh air and spent time doing things that soothed me. I asked myself: What is this winter all about? I asked myself: What change is coming?"
Beautifully written. I've had Wintering on my list for a few years and it's high time I get a copy!