Winter blew in yesterday. Tucker and I were on our daily walk because neither of us is ready to let it go yet. The wind blew his beard like he was on the cover of Glamour. I gloved up for the occasion. At the post office today, the distinctive smell of a heater just-turned-on-for-the-first-time-after-the-summer-months filled the air.
I put the down comforter on our bed. We slept in later because we didn’t want to get out from under the covers. The skin on my nose is already getting dry the way it does in the winter. The trees are naked and I saw birds flying south in a V on my drive home today.
I went to the library and borrowed some books. I laughed out loud while reading today at lunch. This weekend I will buy some Swiss Miss hot chocolate and some marshmallows that I will rarely use and leave in the pantry too long as happens to most all marshmallows.
I like winter. Other than the driving in the snow part and the shoveling the driveway part. If vehicles weren’t involved at all, I would love winter. I like listening to Christmas music. I like scarves and hats and snuggling under blankets and reading books. I like coveting all the shiny things in ads and buying a couple things for myself even though it’s not the reason for the season.
I like hanging stockings and the idea of firing up the ol’ fireplace, although I haven’t done it yet. I like addressing Christmas cards and getting them in return. I like to have a New Years’ Party where we all get too drunk and try to piece the night together afterward.
And this year, I’m going home for the holidays. I like to see my brothers and my little niece who can say my name now. My mom makes fudge and candies and cookies which is my heaven. My dad has a Christmas ritual of pointing out all the houses with Christmas lights on them like we’ve done since as long as I can remember and every year he still says, “I see some lights!” to me in excitement as if he forgot that I’ve grown up. He wants to still think of me as his little girl.
I like to go shopping the day after Christmas where the crowds are insane with teens who got the cash they asked for and can’t wait to spend it. I like to come home after vacation and sink blissfully back into normality. I like it all a lot. Not quite love, since I reserve that for fall, but a close second.
The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes from the summer cottons into its winter wools.
~Henry Beston, Northern Farm