It is often grey in the winter where I live, with little sun. On the days the sun shines and the skies are blue it feels like a gift. Everyone who lives in our home, from cats to kids, follows the sun as it progresses through the windows of our home on its journey across the sky.
There’s this period after the winter solstice when it feels like the lengthening of days, the return of the light, is just a ruse. The mornings are still dark and throwing off the weight of sleep is difficult and slow (for me, at least!). It drops below the horizon when it is still afternoon, not evening, and cocooning under quilts feels like the best option. The world is at rest and my body wants to take the same course of action.
But now. . . it’s easier to see the lengthening days. I can actually see my son as he walks to the bus stop in the morning. He no longer needs the glow of his ipod to light the way. I’m able to rise more quickly in the morning. I don’t set an alarm, but when my body knows its time to awaken, it’s easier to do so. When my daughter gets home from school she can read by the light of the sun once again. It’s good to be able to leave the lights off a little longer in the evenings.
I know we have many weeks of winter left here and I’m happy with that. Let it snow, let the world rest a bit longer. Indoors we’ll continue to unfold ourselves a bit more toward the lengthening of days. Our preparations for the coming season have already begun. Soon, very soon in fact, I’ll be slipping into my seedling stalking mode and mapping out where all of my baby plants will reside in the garden this year. There’s so much living to be done in winter, but sometimes I forget. Writing today has helped me remember.