This December has begun just like the winters I knew as a child living in northern Michigan. The snow has been heavy, unrelenting, beautifully placed on the trees, and like a blanket of comfort that wraps us up and brings us close to the edge of the shadows and darkness of life itself. The thing about winter in the north (and I mean a real winter, not the winters we have had the last few years) is that it is this intense contrast of everything in life. The contrast of beginnings and endings or the light and darkness or even the cold to the hot. The contrasts in life are brought to light quickly and sometimes in rather revealing ways.
In design school, we were taught how contrast was a key to design. To make something stand out we could use contrast whether it be in color, shadow, or highlighting. You name it, but contrast was key to emphasizing the importance of something. I now see the same is true in nature. As the snow has fallen and winter’s decent is clear. I see how the contrast of the landscape is giving both light to what holds our attention now, but I also see the way this season brings to the surface what yet needs our attention.
These things aren’t in our control anymore, they are part of this life of existing in this home we call the North.
Being out in the face of a snow band coming across the Great Lakes in the Midwest isn’t for the faint of heart. The feeling of the wind and snow pelting your body, your lips getting chapped, the nose hairs freezing as you attempt to breathe in the crisp cold arctic air all will leave you somewhat questioning existing in this place we call the north. I left this place because of these feelings. I didn’t want to experience the intensity of winter for 4-5 months a year. I wanted the contrasts of life to be more subtle and less revealing to not only where I was yet to grow, but where I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Winter and the deep days of snow in the north can bring the parts of ourselves we don’t always want to face bubbling up very close to the surface. There is no controlling the weather in winter. It is unpredictable and sometimes shifts plans so rapidly we are left in fight or flight mode. The cabin fever can set in and make us struggle to find joy in even the coziest of settings. Some things feel revealed by this season that in other seasons, I feel we can shut behind closed doors and forget they exist. I know because I have experienced it.
These final weeks of Autumn where we experience the shortest and many times grayest days of the year as the lake shifts temperature and the arctic air makes endless bands of lake effect snow is that we have to come face to face with those bits of self that need shedding. We watch as nature does this as well. I see it right out the window of my office where I write this today. The garden where I only 4 weeks ago was gathering a harvest of tomatoes is now under at least 20 inches of snow and maybe more in places. Those tomato plants are now black and dead beneath the snow and ice that coat the plants I never brought myself to remove from the garden because of how they were thriving. It is a small example of just how these final days can feel like a shedding, revealing, and humbling reminder of our lack of control in this life despite the ways we make ourselves believe it exists.
I think this is why I love winter. I love that the parts of me that need work are brought to light in the darkness. They are placed at the front of my life in such a clear and humbling way because some of my normal routines have left and instead I am there to face them and ask how we can work to exist in a life where nothing is as predictable as we believe it to be.
Now that winter’s snow has arrived the realities of it come right with it. In all the beauty of the falling snow and the sound of a snowstorm while we sleep can be. Our paces and routines must slow. It will take more time to make dinner because the fresh flavors no longer rise in the tunnels of the farmers the way they did even 3-4 weeks ago. We must remember to conjure flavors from the cellular walls of the roots and hardy plants the earth has provided. It takes time to do this as does going to run an errand even just a few miles down the road. To even walk outside once again it requires an extra few minutes to adorn ourselves in preparation for the elements. These things aren’t in our control anymore, they are part of this life of existing in this home we call the North.
There is a frustration in the immediacy of it, but over the years it has become comforting and I find it has taught me just how to create space in my life to not find the gift of it rather than the adversity in it. Things shift in our routines or rather they should. I like to beg to say that the shift of the seasons is what gives us context for the other ones. The shift of routine can be what keeps us aware of what works and what doesn’t in our lives. It allows us to shed, rest, rebuild, and grow in completely new ways that offer fruit and harvests we may not have had otherwise. After all a tree cannot grow new leaves if it doesn’t shed the ones it already has.
There are still moments I wish I could just slip on my clogs to go out to pick herbs for dinner, but instead, there is a reminder of how we still live at the whims of life when I must dig under the snow to find the thyme while wearing snow boots and a down coat to face the wind. The truth is the contrast in that experience will make the thyme that much better whether it is or isn’t.
All those years I was gone I never thought I would feel this way about winter now. How I would long for the snow to be feet deep as if it was some sign that things are normal on
A Past Article You May Like
The Uninfluenced Holiday:
I am going to bring this piece back up to the top because I think it needs it. We aren’t valued in life by the perfection of our home. Despite what Martha may prove, this piece is about undoing that mentality and how to embrace the imperfect undone yet full of meaning and life holiday I believe we all ache for.
From The Margins This Week
A few little bits from my notes over the week and one from the archives.
“When the leaves fall and the trees stand bare in the landscape there are untold stories of the spring and summer that hang in the unprotected structure of the trees. Nests that once held a whole family of birds who now are further south but began their stories here. Whole worlds we never knew we shared the land with, that now are obvious as I trace the shape of the tree branches on my morning walks in the charcoal gray damp light before the first snow settles permanently on the landscape.”
“I know how I feel in the sunlight when the air is crisp and biting. I also know how I feel in the shade on the same day. So I choose the former in how I will move forward into this life: seeking the light even when it feels life is cold and empty without growth. I’ll remain holding hope till the moment I no longer can find the light.”
”The snow tucks us away. Reminding us that the winter season isn’t about maintaining the same pace we had, but about shifting gears toward a time of resetting, resting, and inward work.”
December:
Falling snow in the woods.
Muffled sounds.
Crackling of wood on the fire.
Scent of snow in the air.
Gray days.
Short days.
Long nights.
Time to be with self.
Dreaming.
Endings and new beginnings.
Silence.
Pink and lavender mornings.
Heart beating.
Skis with snow still frozen to them.
Damp boots by the front door.
Beeswax candles burning bright in the fading light.
Swoosh of snow gear.
Returning to the light.
Celebrating.
Slow meals.
Slow days.
Blowing storms.
Cozy evenings under blankets with low light and warm tea.
Cold bitten rosy cheeks.
Sinking into our roots.
On my mind this week
September is a new vibe, so here are some things I am enjoying and thinking about right now.
One Straw Revolution by Masanobu Fukuoka:
This book has been required reading for my certification and before I kick into class next month, I am making sure it has been read and covered. But I think it is an essential read as we pursue different techniques for food in our country or even how we approach living in this world that lies ahead. Using less. Observing nature and being more focused on being resilient.Natural Decor for the Holiday Season:
I don’t buy decor for our home for the holidays. I believe we make it from things that are able to be composted or recyclable or we don’t do it. I make things and slowly keep them if possible over the years. I have a whole board on Pinterest I keep some ideas, if you want some.Winter Gear:
I get this question a lot and I want to say first and foremost. Winter gear should do a few things. One, be used for at least a decade of use. Two isn’t intended to be a major fashion statement. I believe in classic and consistent pieces that really work! Hands down my favorite winter gear piece is my Down Sweater Jacket. It is the most bang for your buck in terms of warmth, plus is from Patagonia so if it needs a repair you can have it done and you can also find them used through their Worn Wear. I also am a BIG fan of these Obermeyer snow pants that you literally can do yoga in. I have one pair but plan to get another pair because I wear them so much in the winter I need a backup.
For my kids, I also swear by snow suits and not individual snow gear. They have jackets and pants for school, but at home play and skiing it keeps gear minimal and simple. We love The Outdoor School for gear that holds up the best for them being just crazy kiddos in the snow. They also offer used gear as well, which I think is awesome.Christmas holiday books for kids:
We don’t do the Santa thing in our home. We do one big present for our kids and stockings but it never really clicked with our kids and I was okay with that. So many of our holiday books instead focus on what is happening in nature and the mystical world outside. It’s a little more a Nordic approach which means we read a lot of winter books from Jan Brett. Our favorite is Cozy, which is about a young Musk Ox who gets lost in a snowstorm and ends up caring for a slew of other animals trying to make it through the season. It is a sweet and silly story. We also love the Who is Knocking on Christmas Eve which is about trolls and them being a pesky part of Christmas Eve dinner. Our last favorite is Annie and the Wild Animals. They are all creative and artistic books that I have been reading since I was child. They felt like my childhood in northern Michigan and I believe it is why my kids connect so well to them as well.Winter Solstice:
We are just weeks from Winter Solstice. This is a major thing in our home. I believe in signifying the beginning and ending of every season, but winter is our biggest celebration because we begin rising back to the light. We begin the celebration by taking lanterns on a walk at dusk as a family and with any neighbors who want to join. We then light candles all over the house for a slow-cooked, warm dinner made of only locally farmed food whether we grew it with our friends or neighbors who farm. We then always read a book like this one and eat a citrus olive oil cake, which signifies the sun. Some do a yule log but I think this cake is way easier to make as a parent. I used a citrus cake recipe from Love and Lemons and just switched out for oranges instead of lemon. It is beautiful and my kids’ favorite thing we do. It begins the process of the holiday season for us. I want my kids to fully see the beauty and gifts of the passing of seasons the older they become. The magic for us is in the rhythms of nature and the way we interact with them. Over time as they get older I look forward to what they will contribute to this.Rethinking the gift economy:
I don’t share many links for a reason. I spent years in the industry of links and getting kickbacks on sales when people buy something. Now I am not into that world or like it. The consumerism cycle is intense and not good for our planet or resources. That said, I plan to encourage you this month to rethink gifts. Lean into giving experiences, repurpose or renew something, or if you do buy look locally and in your community this year. It isn’t always perfect, but I will be helping you as much as possible to rethink how we consume in our culture so that it takes note of how nature does it; cyclically and without waste.
I will be sharing the Seasonal Winter Guide coming up. I have some updates I am making to it from the season before. So I hope you enjoy them and find them enlightening and helpful for this season ahead. The guides are for paid subscribers only. If you would like access you can become a paid subscriber. This is one of the benefits of committing to a paid subscription. Use the button below to get a discount for the years ahead of seasonal content.