Winter is hard for me.
Yes, I love the beanies and gloves and woollen layers. I love the excuse to cook hearty, warming curries and eat slow cooked soups. And any excuse to sit cozily by the fire with a book or some crafty project is fine by me.
But come mid-July every year, it seems that winter dazzle starts to fade. Battered by winds and rain and mud, surrounded by dying and decay it all seems to seep in and leave my mood melancholy and dark.
Still, winter is eerily beautiful. For in all the darkness and death there is space to be found. A certain peace we don’t get a chance to see or feel in any other season.
There is a silence and awe that can only be felt on a still, frosty winter morning. When the ground crunches underfoot, the birds no longer sing and the air hangs heavy with the misty dew.
She is urging us to still ourselves, to settle, sit and reflect. To look inward, digest and then let go.Are you feeling it?
There has been a motto in my head this past week or two that has kept me moving forward, one (bright red) gumboot at a time…
this too shall pass
For on the other side of the darkness is spring.
A season for new growth, germination and Phoenix-ing. Where the promise of fertile lands sown with hopes and dreams, can comes true.