Oh the weather outside is frightful
but the fire is so delightful……
I am not the right sort of person to live in Arizona, for I like the cold. I am very fond of winter and what winter used to mean. Winter was a time for staying home. My ancestors, who hailed from Northern climates, did the minimal outdoor tasks and then they stayed put. Activities were limited to sitting by roaring fires, drinking hot drinks, and telling stories. This lasted four months (more or less) with twelve days at Christmas time to get jolly. Cozy introverted activities are harder to justify in warmer times.
I love snow for the same reason. It allows me to stay home. There is no joy like curling up in a warm blanket with a hot cup of something and a good book. Outside the snow blizzard roars.
Alas there is no snow here, but it is cold enough to get the wooly socks out and the thick white cotton bathrobe. There is a comforter on the bed, and a warm pooch to share it. A candle burns on the dresser. I could sleep for weeks, dreaming of winter thoughts of long ago.
QUIET UNTIL THE THAW – translated from the Cree
Her name tells of how
it was with her.
The truth is, she did not speak
Everyone learned not to
ask her questions in winter,
once this was known about her.
The first winter this happened
we looked in her mouth to see
if something was frozen. Her tongue
maybe, or something else in there.
But after the thaw she spoke again
and told us it was fine for her that way.
So each spring we
looked forward to that.