Every fall I feel a kind of sadness that spring and summer are done. It’s profoundly silly, though, because everything cycles back, and winter has so many benefits.
I was reading a New Year’s essay in the book Living on the Earth by Bill Deusing that spoke with hope about spring was coming. It said that February was time for sowing pansies and onions, and March was for broccoli, tomatoes and many other things. Instead of anticipation, I felt something more like GUH OH NO OH NO. Because for me, spring means being busy again. Loading entire pickup trucks with soil and coordinating the distribution of thousands of seedlings to 50 gardens. Doing 5 things at once for 7 different people and undoubtedly screwing up one of them.
No no, not yet. I’m deeply enjoying the quiet of winter, and I am grateful that my job allows me to follow the rhythm of the seasons. I’m working fewer hours and have time to reflect, relax, and learn new things. Probably if I looked harder, I could find more to write about—birds visit every ten days or so, a tiny rodent seems to have tunneled through the snow by our back step—and there’s certainly much more going on out there. But I don’t feel the need to be productive, only contemplative, and that is fine. This winter is very much a time for internal processing, and while that means I get very little exercise, I think it is good for my spirit.
Lest I sound like a holier-than-thou monk, I’ll admit that I’ve played dozens of rounds of Ticket to Ride against the computer. Which is maybe...also good...for the spirit?
I wrote this originally in late December, and I’m finishing it in early February, at a time when I’m a little more ready for spring. I grew some microgreens under lights and now I’m excited to see more things grow. Ordering seeds has got me dreaming about vegetable gardens, and I’m sort of desperate to see bugs again. BUT there is no point rushing time along, it will do that on its own—our task is just to enjoy time as it unfolds.