When immersing myself in the concept of hygge, I reached out to Suzie, who spent a year abroad in Denmark during our junior year of high school. Much happened in that tumultuous and somewhat-perilous time of our lives. I think we both sometimes marvel at how we made it through when so many things were so close to going wrong. It was there that Suzie said she first experienced hygge, though she did question how meaningful it could have been for a cynical teenager. Something must have stuck, because ever since then, and even before I had heard of hygge, Suzie has been that source of safety and warmth and convivial joy for me.
Upon my recent research and discovery of the whole Danish concept of coziness, I turned again to Suzie, who then introduced me to the Danish String Quartet, which has been providing the soundtrack to this snow-laden mid-winter stretch. This selection brings a bit of vibrancy to the white and brown outside world, where fallen hydrangea flower-heads nod beneath the fluffy weight of a recent snowfall.
Slowly, I am learning to appreciate the season of winter, with its subtle textures and subdued beauty. One has to work a little harder to make sense of the show now, and there’s a different sort of reward when it comes into focus. For instance, see this snow. It’s not a heavy, uniform blanket of white stuff – it’s lighter, and some flakes have formed little balls, tiny pom-poms of frozen wonder. It reminds ever so slightly of the lace-cap hydrangeas of early summer. Nature is cunning like that – cunning and gorgeous.
