Vermont December is not the season of picking garden zinnias or gathering wildflowers.
December is the season of intentionality: wear a hat and mittens everywhere, dry your boots before the wood stove when you return, drive carefully on the slippery roads.
As the holidays edge in, I keep on with my daily routines of tending the fire, going to work, checking in with my daughters about who’s cooking dinner. On the more submerged level, our lives go on, too. My youngest dreams of her future. I read about the bad year 536. In these early winter days, I return to my original love affair with reading — novels. Fiction reminds me, over and over, in an infinite number of ways, why we love this world.
The pandemic has taken plenty from us — much more from so many people than my little family. But it’s also given us this tiny quiet space, too, like the breath at the beginning of each day, just before dawn. In this space, I see my path could bend many ways. Don’t, I caution myself, write a mad letter to the former in-laws. Instead, leave Christmas gifts of homemade soap on the neighbors’ front steps.
“The best way out is always through.”
― Robert Frost
6 thoughts on “Dusky December”
Thank you for reading!
If we are lucky, this dusty December might reveal a lovely Saturn/Jupiter conjunction…if the clouds pass!
This is so wonderful…I feel all of it. Thank you. Also: thanks for the link to 536…I really enjoy reading that kind of science. I recently found out (thru 23 and me) that I am descended from The Ice Man…so this cold runs in my blood I suppose ☺️
I’d also read about that dark period recently – wow solar powered me wouldn’t have done well!