Winter longing
Posted on | December 5, 2006 |
The cold has finally arrived. “Come on,” it says, “hunker down.” It sends us snuggling under comforters, or to the couch to curl around a book, sipping green tea from a tall mug, as its long fingers creep in under the lintel. It gathers around the window glass, leaving hooray etchings where condensation lingered not long before.
The fields are finally dusted with snow—after weeks of off-kilter weather; and all day, in spite of the sun, wondrous, dizzy snowflakes drifted slowly earthward. Not much accumulated, but enough to feel like winter might really arrive. Enough to exhale and feel like though we’re close, we haven’t pushed off over the brink yet. I put on an extra sweater, and though I my feet are cold, I know that I am lucky.
This year has hurtled by me like the herd of wild horses I once watched be rounded up in the tiny French costal village of Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer. Like them, the days have whirled by, nostrils flaring, eyes large with terror and adrenaline. I was nineteen then, and lithe from a week of rock climbing and sleeping under stars. I remember how I could feel the horses hoof beats reverberating in my heart.
Things were slower then, than now, when instead of measuring my growth by cliffs climbed, or cities traveled, I have the small miracle of a boy who grows each day, and sends love smashing across my heart like that stampede. I look down at my hands and see how a fine filigree of wrinkles are spreading out across my knuckles. I hold my son’s new palm in mine.
Its funny to feel like I’ve been waiting for winter, but somehow that’s the truth. I’ve been waiting for the inevitable stir-crazy introversion that occurs after days and days spent inside looking out. I’ve been waiting for when the time is right gather myself up, and to sift through the collection of artifacts that my soul has become.
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13 Responses to “Winter longing”
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December 5th, 2006 @ 10:33 pm
I can’t agree more with your sentiments, Christina. There is a longing I always have for winter too. It’s similiar to how I can’t wait for a rainy day in the summer when I have projects to finish indoors and need any excuse to get them completed. The cold has arrived in northern Wisconsin and with it a wonderful dusting of powdery snow. It’s beautiful. Unfortunately it’s supposed to climb into the 40s this weekend…
Do you ever forget what the next or previous season feels like when your full-tilt into the current season? Like right now, I can’t remember what it feels like to be hot outside or to wear sandals!
December 6th, 2006 @ 1:01 am
The cold has finally arrived in our normally sweltering hot corner of the country as well. I love pulling my turtleneck up to my chin and curling my sleeves around my fingers — I think in a past life I must have been a turtle.
December 6th, 2006 @ 1:55 am
Can I just say that I love this post?
Thank you for sharing.
December 6th, 2006 @ 2:03 am
Christina, this was an amazing post. Just breathtaking. I had to reread it several times. Thanks for sharing…
December 6th, 2006 @ 9:28 am
Odd to think it is winter elsewhere. By us it is 32 degrees outside and HOT.
Strangely I feel the same about summer finally arriving. It is something I have been longing for all year. Green things sweating in the summer sun, an occasional breeze cooling their leaves. A full moon peeks at a blue landscape stretching out under pink sunset clouds.
December 6th, 2006 @ 11:44 am
“Shut in from all the world without
We sat the cleanwinged hearth about,
Content to let the north wind roar
In baffled rage at pane and door
While the red logs before us beat
The frost line back with tropic heat;
And ever, when a louder blast
Shook beam and rafter as it passed,
The merrier up its roaring draft
The great throat of the chimney laughed;
The house dog on his paws outspread
Laid to the fire his drowsy head,
The cat’s dark silhouette on the wall
A couchant tiger’s seemed to fall;
And, for the winter fireside meet,
Between the andirons’ straddling feet,
The mug of cider simmered slow,
The apples sputtered in a row,
And, close at hand, the basket stood
With nuts from brown October’s wood…”
-”Snowbound” by John Greenlead Whittier
I recommend the whole thing. Beautiful winter imagery abounds.
December 6th, 2006 @ 3:48 pm
and what a good time to do it–when the snow muffles all surrounding noise and you can enjoy the intense quiet, when a fire is blazing to warm your body and your spirit, when a nice mug of tea is waiting to offer you nourishment…perfect time…
December 6th, 2006 @ 5:40 pm
bloody hell, you have a brilliant way with words. love reading your blog.
December 6th, 2006 @ 5:45 pm
beautiful beautiful! the imagery of the horses, the stampede of love! i can’t get enough of your words Christina!
December 6th, 2006 @ 9:39 pm
It’s true, winter does allow us to slow down and take stock. I love reading your winter thankfulness, perhaps I need to embrace the snap in the air rather than beat it back with heat and shut doors. This post was just beautiful, classic Christina goodness.
December 6th, 2006 @ 10:00 pm
This year, I have actually been looking forward to winter for similar reasons. I usually dread it.
December 7th, 2006 @ 8:42 pm
when i read your writing, i get your point, and you always make a great point and share from your soul so freely.
but the words you choose, the imagery you create — it is it’s own ride. sometimes wild, sometimes heartbreaking. the paragraph about the horses made me feel woozy, like i was tipsy from drinking sweet red port. your writing is SO powerful and beautiful! thank you.
December 11th, 2006 @ 9:19 pm
I was dreading the cold, but your post is making me rethink. Thanks for sharing.