There’s a hinge point each year, and often it’s subtle. There’s this sneaky silent moment where rainfall turns into snowfall and without warning Autumn has passed and Winter has been born again. There’s a strange sense of excitement when this happens, but a deep-rooted sense of melancholy that accompanies it. Now, we think, we’re in for the cold once again, we’re in for the deep and enduring darkness that will last well into the Spring, and we must once again endure it. Call this a hibernation, if we must, call this the retreating to the caves we’ve created, the hope that we’ve stored enough inside ourselves to make it through again. Call it what we will, but it’s here, and so we must do this dance again.
A beautiful haiku that accurately represents how very brief that transition is in some places. That's how it is here in Minnesota. We had a glorious, beautiful autumn this year with breathtaking fall colors that spread over the trees for a few short weeks. Then with a breath of wind, it was gone and the next day we got 6 inches of snow. That has now melted, but it was a warning of what is to come.
This year, I'm hoping to embrace it. I hope my knee injury is healed and I get cleared by by surgeon to use the snowshoes I bought the week before I blew my knee in January. I want to experience winter in a more positive light than in the past, explore nature's beauty and breathe in the fresh air.
i love getting your newsletter each morning. it keeps me focused on something poetic rather than scanning through WaPo or NYT and remembering the world is on fire. thanks for your wonderful thoughts and inspiration.
Today is my first newsletter day- and I clearly needed it. This made me cry? Winter feels so big, so long and so new yet the same. But we will also find joy, and warmth, and light. Thanks for being the light!
We don’t get this type of weather change in Florida obviously, but the way the dark comes earlier still signals that change just the same. We do look forward to our few cold weeks a year though. Beautiful haiku
A beautiful haiku that accurately represents how very brief that transition is in some places. That's how it is here in Minnesota. We had a glorious, beautiful autumn this year with breathtaking fall colors that spread over the trees for a few short weeks. Then with a breath of wind, it was gone and the next day we got 6 inches of snow. That has now melted, but it was a warning of what is to come.
This year, I'm hoping to embrace it. I hope my knee injury is healed and I get cleared by by surgeon to use the snowshoes I bought the week before I blew my knee in January. I want to experience winter in a more positive light than in the past, explore nature's beauty and breathe in the fresh air.
i love getting your newsletter each morning. it keeps me focused on something poetic rather than scanning through WaPo or NYT and remembering the world is on fire. thanks for your wonderful thoughts and inspiration.
Today is my first newsletter day- and I clearly needed it. This made me cry? Winter feels so big, so long and so new yet the same. But we will also find joy, and warmth, and light. Thanks for being the light!
We don’t get this type of weather change in Florida obviously, but the way the dark comes earlier still signals that change just the same. We do look forward to our few cold weeks a year though. Beautiful haiku