A sigh for winter, which seems to be settling in and getting comfortable just as the party needs to be put to bed.
A sigh for the lion of early March, which is batting away the lamb like some plaything, scratching with icy claws and cutting with sharp winds.
A sigh for the gray sky, the kind of gray that stays through the night, obscuring moon and stars and sun alike.
A world of sighs for the world of winter, and the chance to re-embrace the concept of hygge.
The snowy night is very much a thing of beauty and wonder. Watching it from behind a window, where an orchid incongruously sits in full and glorious bloom, I feel the sense of coziness and warmth that heralds hygge. A candle flickers its warm rays of light, while the snowy world outside glows with a more muted light.
The tea kettle whistles from the kitchen, beckoning me to deeper warmth. Pouring the steaming water into a tea cup, I embrace the ritual, finding solace in the customary motion. The body and the mind lead one another – when the mind is stubborn and unwilling, putting the body into motion sparks the familiar sensations, and the mind follows. Alternately, when the body is not up to the motion, the mind may lead, and the desire for those same sensations sparks the movement. Taken together, the happy denouement of a warm cup of tea in hand staves off the coldness of another winter night.
