I take it back.
Well, almost.
Not enough to revise and rewrite the title of this post, but I wrote it with a weary eye, and an element of histrionic rage that doesn’t accurately betray our actual state. In truth, over the past few years I’ve come to embrace and appreciate winter’s stark and barren beauty, the way it forces us to pause and take stock, how it stills the world with its inhospitable environment, chasing us inside, to the interior of our homes and minds. Winter refuses to let us escape, sometimes quite literally.
Because of that, we must make sure our inside worlds are just as beautiful and inviting as the outside one. Winter has often instigated moments of contemplation and self-work. When and where otherwise I’d be outside frantically scrambling to get the yard in order or figuring out how to keep a messy mound of fountain grass within bounds, at this time of the year I can calmly look out over whatever remains and think fondly of the garden without exerting myself more than leafing through a few seed catalogs.
And so I retract the title of this post, taking out the ‘insufferable‘ part and simply acknowledging and accepting the way of winter.
PS – Candlelight helps.
