The Comfort of Winter
I am thinking today about how I’ve always hated fall for being the death of summer, but I’ve never split that from my love of winter. In a short story, I gave the narrator the sentiment that he loved Mississippi best in winter when color kicked in. Yellow grass, orange sage, black limbs against the clarified sky. In summer, Mississippi is just green, green, green. This year, the comfort of winter is drawing me in.
The dulled winter sky feels no need to blare itself into the world. Bare limbs whisper their secrets, creaking. On our Mississippi farm, walking through the copse of trees we children called the woods, we could see the vines swinging, no longer covered by green. We called everything the wrong name. The small gathering of trees a woods, orange sage wheat, the thick vine a grape vine. But the magic was real.
How perverse is this sentiment of the comfort of winter ? I don’t know, but it’s as if winter’s starkness is telling me it’s okay to be still. Okay not to insist on vibrancy and progress and the next big thing. That life continues in the off-season. That perhaps the off-season is the reason. We slog through the heat of summer, and extravagant dying of fall, and insistent new life of spring so we can enjoy the comfort of winter. For then the leafless limbs create space for us to see God.
Grey caresses like the soft fur of the bunny. A snapped twig builds a discordant tune. The cold damp seeps through the sole of my shoe into the soul of my heart. The world assures me those who pause are valued. Stillness heals. In winter, toughness that goes unpraised throughout the year sings into its joy. I am grateful to be given the comfort of winter.
Hope you, too, can enjoy the comfort of winter
a Mississippi farm, comfort of winter, I love winter, Mississippi winters, winter in Mississippi
Donna
Happy winter to you Ellen and merry holidays as well 😄
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Ans also to you, Donna! ❤️
Joe Hawes
Your last paragraph is pure poetry. Let’s have more of that. I used to love being outside during the Winter just because there was so much to see and appreciate
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Thank you, Joe. Yes, it’s easier to see in the winter, isn’t it?
Marie Bailey
Oh, I love this: “I don’t know, but it’s as if winter’s starkness is telling me it’s okay to be still. Okay not to insist on vibrancy and progress and the next big thing. That life continues in the off-season. That perhaps the off-season is the reason.” I’ve always enjoyed winters, and I think you’ve articulated why. It is a time to slow down, take stock (or not).
Ellen Morris Prewitt
It is so honoring, Marie, for you to “read” my words back to me. Thank you for that. Us winter folks have to stick together.
Julia coggins
I have no comfort as my jesse died. Take care of Tom. You never know. Love you Gogi
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Oh, my heart breaks for you, Julia. What a terrible, hard thing. I cannot imagine what it feels like to be cleaved from one you have loved so deeply. Please remember to take care of yourself as you can. All my love to you.
Joanne Corey
Beautiful meditation, Ellen. I agree with the comment about how poetic this post is.
For me, it also points out the geographic distinction of your being in the South and my being in the Northeast. Winter here is more muted, with many contrasts covered by snow. (Of course, this is somewhat my childhood sense that is ingrained, as we no longer have snow on the ground all winter – or late fall, winter, and early spring – as we used to.) It’s a time of vigilance for hazard more than a time of comfort. We do manage to draw inward and make cozy spaces for ourselves, but it requires additional energy and intention to accomplish.
This is not to say that I dislike winter. I appreciate the contrasts of the seasons, which are more marked here than there. I have no desire to become a snowbird, spending the winter down South to avoid the snow and cold.
I wish you well, Ellen, for the impending winter. May it bring you comfort in its stillness.
Ellen Morris Prewitt
Hmm, snow covering everything. Yes, that would be radically different, both in vision and reaction. And sad to think how much the months with covering has shrunk over the years of winters. My sister in Raleigh, NC, has said the same thing: winters used to mean lots of snow. But no more. Thank you for your well-wishes. December used to have my birthday, my wedding anniversary, my dad’s death anniversary, and Christmas. Though my current wedding anniversary occurs in July, it is still a complex month for me.