Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter. Show all posts

25 June 2021

Happy Leon Day!

"Leon" is "Noel" spelled backwards, and it's now six months until Christmas. Lots of fun upcoming soon: autumn leaves, Hallowe'en, cooler temps, Thanksgiving, Advent, pumpkins and cinnamon, peppermint and gingerbread, the dream of wintry breezes.
 
(And—O frabjous day!—finally the Friends of the Library book sale!)
 
All we have to do is make it through the sultry, stultifying, smelly, stinky, sweaty siege that is the remainder of summer.
 
I'd be happy for Independence Day, but the fireworks make the dog crazy...
 

 

22 January 2021

Somewhere It's Snowing...But Not Here

Snowy Night 
Mary Oliver
Last night, an owl
in the blue dark
tossed
an indeterminate number
of carefully shaped sounds into
the world, in which,
a quarter of a mile away, I happened
to be standing.
I couldn’t tell
which one it was –
the barred or the great-horned
ship of the air –
it was that distant. But, anyway,
aren’t there moments
that are better than knowing something,
and sweeter? Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
than prettiness. I suppose
if this were someone else’s story
they would have insisted on knowing
whatever is knowable – would have hurried
over the fields
to name it – the owl, I mean.
But it’s mine, this poem of the night,
and I just stood there, listening and holding out
my hands to the soft glitter
falling through the air. I love this world,
but not for its answers.
And I wish good luck to the owl,
whatever its name –
and I wish great welcome to the snow,
whatever its severe and comfortless
and beautiful meaning
.

15 January 2021

"Winter Night"

Pile high the hickory and the light
Log of chestnut struck by the blight.
Welcome-in the winter night.

The day has gone in hewing and felling,
Sawing and drawing wood to the dwelling
For the night of talk and story-telling.

These are the hours that give the edge
To the blunted axe and the bent wedge,
Straighten the saw and lighten the sledge.

Here are question and reply,
And the fire reflected in the thinking eye.
So peace, and let the bob-cat cry.

                                                           Edna St. Vincent Millay

08 January 2021

"When Winter Came to Call"

Mildred L. Jarrell
from Ideals Christmas 2020

A silver world was all about
when I awoke this morn,
for overnight the silver frost
of winter came along.

An ermine robe was draped around
the stately evergreens,
and tatted lace of frost was placed
on deown pond and stream.

The little brook was silent,
locked in winter's clasp,
Hemmed in crystal stitchery
with icy blades of grass.

The meadow lay in silence,
while over all the snow,
wildlings tracked their calling cards
where'er they'd come and go.

A wondrous cloak of whiteness
the snow king laid o'er all,
fashioned from a leaden sky
when winter came to call.

07 January 2020

"Snow-Flakes"

by Mary N. Prescott, "St. Nicholas," March 1880

"Come," said the Snow-flakes, "it's time we should rally,
     To tuck up the roots of the grass,
To shine on the hill-top and whiten the valley
     And touch the world up as we pass.

All the huts that are ruined and ugly
     Let us change into marble halls,
We will cover the naked hedges up snugly,
     And festoon the ragged stone walls.

We will build our drifts on the king's highway,
     Mimic the shape of star or feather,
We will silently waltz the livelong day,
     Or sculpture garlands together.

Never, outside of the spider's loom,
     Shall be spun such laces as ours,
And never, after the summer's bloom,
     Shall be seen such wonderful flowers."

21 December 2019

Winter Solstice — Happy Yule!



THE SHORTEST DAY

Copyright Susan Cooper 1974

So the shortest day came, and the year died,
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen,
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing, behind us — listen!
All the long echoes sing the same delight
This shortest day
As promise wakens in the sleeping land.
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends, and hope for peace.
And so do we, here, now,
This year, and every year.
Welcome Yule!


Winter Solstice 2019: A Short Day That's Long on Ancient Traditions 

Farmer's Almanac: Winter Solstice 2019

EarthSky: Everything You Need to Know About the December Solstice

Susan Cooper's Classic "The Shortest Day" Made Into a Book

31 January 2019

"Silence Profound"

by Coleen Shelver Keefe
(from "Victorian Homes," December 2006)

Quiet, soft and steady,
Not a sound can be heard,
Not a whisper of the wind,
Not a call of a bird.

A cold stormy night
Let a blanket of snow
And a silence as pure
As a carved cameo.

The snowy ground glistens,
The air smells of pine.
Trees webbed with hoarfrost
Leave a dreamy design.

Nothing compares,
To the beauty of snow,
To the sparkle of frost,
To the clouds hanging low…

Except for the quiet,
The stillness profound,
That floats on the air
And covers the ground.

15 January 2019

"Winter-Time"

Robert Louis Stevenson

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed,  
A frosty, fiery sleepy-head;  
Blinks but an hour or two; and then,  
A blood-red orange, sets again.  
  
Before the stars have left the skies,
At morning in the dark I rise;  
And shivering in my nakedness,  
By the cold candle, bathe and dress.  
  
Close by the jolly fire I sit  
To warm my frozen bones a bit;
Or with a reindeer-sled, explore  
The colder countries round the door.  
  
When to go out, my nurse doth wrap  
Me in my comforter and cap;  
The cold wind burns my face, and blows
Its frosty pepper up my nose.  
  
Black are my steps on silver sod;  
Thick blows my frosty breath abroad;  
And tree and house, and hill and lake,  
Are frosted like a wedding-cake.

21 December 2018

The Shortest Day of the Year

"Just think what it must have been like for our distant ancestors, long before the invention of electric lamps, yearning for the return of the light. Many an hour they would have spent gathered around the warmth of a welcoming hearth fire, sharing stories, telling tales, and singing songs to while away the long and chilly nights. Might not our tradition of gathering family and friends together at Yuletide be echoes of those past times?

"The key to all this, of course, lies in the fact that this is the time of year when we celebrate the rebirth of the light at the winter solstice, when the Northern Hemisphere is positioned furthest from the warming rays of the sun, and the nights are long and chilly. This is a significant moment, as the sun appears to stand still in the heavens before slowly, but inexorably, making its 'ascent into the light.'"

Ark Redwood, "The Simple Things," December 2012

25 December 2017

Christmas in the Air

As I mentioned, James volunteered to work today so he wouldn't get drafted, especially on New Year's Day. Plus it was double time and would make up a little for his three doctor's appointments last week. So this Christmas morning James was up at seven to work. I got to sleep in a bit.

James was twiddling his thumbs when I got up and had breakfast. I was changing channels looking for something Christmasy, and stumbled over Come to the Stable on FXM. I wish I'd known it was on. I hadn't seen it in years. It's not really a Christmas movie, but begins in winter when two nuns arrive in New England to try to found a children's hospital. I'd forgotten how funny bits of it was, especially Sister Margaret driving the jeep.

Tucker was very patient and waited for me to finish with the movie to go out. It was very cold out, in the high 20s with a sharp wind snapping the St. Nicholas banner and the flag. It felt good! There were high clouds and bits of sky showing as we strolled the neighborhood. Someone down the street was having company for dinner. The cars filled their long driveway and spilled out to the street.

James took a break before lunch and then we had presents! O, what a haul! Four books and two DVDs, the books all from my Amazon wish list: World War II in Rhode Island, Rhode Island Radio (with a photo of Jack Comley, my favorite radio talk show host ever), Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade, and Britcom FAQ.  The DVDs were both Rick Steves: his new episodes for 2017-2018, and all his specials (even the Easter special). I gave James two military nonfiction books, Andy Weir's new book Artemis, the second season of WKRP in Cincinnati, and a Jethro Tull concert DVD. And of course the chair he was sitting in! (We discovered Tucker sleeping in it last night, and it looked so sweet, the little dog curled up in the big red chair next to the Christmas tree.

Put on The House Without a Christmas Tree while we had lunch: our turkey leftovers from West Cobb Diner on Friday night, a clementine, and Terry's dark chocolate orange slices. Tried not to snack too much so we could save the calories for the feast at the Butlers!

While James waited for someone to call, I also washed some towels and unloaded and loaded the dishwasher and made the bed.

Spent the later afternoon watching The Homecoming and feeling very drowsy, so took a 45-minute nap (well, I tried to; I really didn't sleep much), then took Tucker for a walk, fixed him a special Christmas dinner with a little chicken broth and beef and carrot dog-food puree, got dressed and washed my face, brought James his shoes (otherwise he was ready to go) and a hairbrush, and put the gifts together.

At five o'clock James signed off having had nary a call, and we loaded up the car with presents and chocolate cake and were off to the Butlers to enjoy three hours of friends, food and fun. People had just sat down to dinner and we availed ourselves of apple cider basted turkey, spiral-sliced ham, pot roast, mashed potatoes, noodle kugel, sprouts, and carrots. Dessert was two homemade pies, fruitcake cookies, our chocolate cake and a coconut cake, and some Andes mints we also brought. Once the feasting was complete, we gathered in the living room for gifts. We got many lovely things, too numerous to list.

Journeyed home about eight, stopping at a housing plat along the way to see their decorations. One end definitely had a "glitter gulch"! Yet another lawn was covered with inflatables: two Mickey Mouses, a Minnie Mouse, a Minion, Olaf the snowman, Santa in an airplane, Santa with his sleigh, and about a dozen more.

Once home we watched the Call the Midwife Christmas special—very interesting story based around "the Big Freeze," the cold winter of 1962-1963. Will the actress who played Barbara not be in the new season? They have sent her and her husband the curate to another church for six months. I've always loved Barbara and will miss her.

01 December 2016

"Trees of Winter"

E.B. White

Oh, they are lovely trees that wait
      In the still hall of winter,
      Silent and good where the Good Planter
Fixed the root, wove the branch delicate.

Friendly the birches in the thin light
      By the frost sanctified,
      And here, too, silent by their side
I stand in the woods, listening, upright,

Hearing in the cold of the long pause
      Of the full year
      What trees intend that I should hear:
Interpretations of old laws...

Hearing the faint, the chickadee cry
      Of root that molders,
      Of branch bent, and leaf that withers,
And little brown seed that does not die.

11 October 2016

Happy Hygge!

Do you know about hygge? it's a Scandinavian concept with an "emphasis on the delights of small pleasures slowly taken." There's summer hygge as well, but in winter it comes into its own, "all about candelight, wood piles, open fires, warm socks, felt slippers and cosy blankets...[i]t's also about cherishing the magic of autumn and winter—from wild walks along stormy beaches to stargazing in clear winter skies to celebrating the year's first frost" and then coming home to warm drinks, good food, and the warmth of fire and friends.

Here are some books about hygge:

The Cozy Life

Hygge: The Complete Guide

Hygge is what some magazines today are calling "mindfulness"—to slow down and appreciate all the good things in your life, even if it's something so small as seeing a new bird, watching a beautiful leaf fall, eating a crisp fall apple, or doing some tiny thing. It can be translated into a way of cooking or a way of decorating, but that's not really "hygge"; it's truly the thought that counts. One of my favorite new magazines, "The Simple Things," tries to celebrate the idea of hygge in every issue: a handful of bright flowers in a drinking glass, a simple meal with friends, reading a favorite book, sitting by a fire and sipping tea.

This fall and winter forget the competitive Christmas shopping and enjoy some hygge!

Incidentally, it's pronounced "hue-gah."

(The quotes in the first paragraph are from the September 2016 issue of "The Simple Things.")

21 December 2015

The Longest Night

http://shewhodreams.weebly.com/uploads/6/8/3/0/6830014/168296166.jpg?321

Everything You Need to Know About the Winter Solstice

Five Strange Facts about the Winter Solstice

Something for Everyone: A Solstice, Tonight!

Winter Solstice Arrives, and Here’s What It Means

The Shortest Day
"And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
to keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.”

                                            -- Susan Cooper
 

21 December 2014

The Winter Solstice

Five Questions and Answers About the Solstice

Everything You Need to Know About the Winter Solstice

Why We Need the Winter Solstice

Happy Yule!

"Old" St. Thomas Day

And, of course:

The Shortest Day
"And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
to keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.”

                                            -- Susan Cooper 

21 December 2013

The Shortest Day

"And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
to keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.”

                                            -- Susan Cooper

8 Enlightening Facts About the Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice 2013

Shortest Day

Yule: Winter Solstice

Stonehenge Winter Solstice Tour

December Solstice Traditions and Customs

13 March 2012

A Seasonal Shift

I spent my lunch hour today doing "the big change," collecting the winter things in their boxes and putting back the autumn decor that is usually up, plus the seasonal spring decorations. This did not take as long as I expected, thankfully, so I could finish today; it was just a busy hour of packing and running up and down the stairs—a great workout. There are only one large container and two smaller containers of winter things, plus a Hallmark bag with the two "snow baskets," the winter bouquet, and the pine cone garland. The spring decorations are even less: two "sweater boxes." The vase of cattails and Chinese lanterns is back on the hearth, the pretty "friends" plaque and the Country Pickins shadowbox back up in the dining room, and my cute little lamb figurine that I bought at Hobby Lobby now sits smiling in front of a bouquet of spring flowers on the table.

I was kicked into action to do this by realizing yesterday that it was a week to St. Joseph's Day and I still didn't have my St. Joseph's altar up yet! This is on the china cabinet and replaced my winter village.

I had the things on the porch down over a week ago, disgusted by our warm weather, having taken them down in a fit of pique, but they were still lying in a depressing heap in the foyer. So they're all away, and James will put the boxes up some day this week, and that will be that.

Now if I could just get all the Christmas presents off the hearth...

Eighty degrees for the rest of the week! Aieeeeee!

02 February 2012

Candles, Groundhogs, and Other Denizens of This Date

There are many names for February 2!


Americans know it as "Groundhog Day" for the odd custom of using the "groundhog" (a.k.a. the woodchuck) to predict the coming of spring. According to the tale, if the groundhog sees his shadow, we will have six more weeks of winter; however, if it is cloudy and there is no shadow, spring is in the offing.

This custom dates back to European folklore, and initally involved a badger. However, the rhyme which goes with the tale is even older. There are several versions, but they all boil down to:

‘If Candlemas day be sunny and bright,
winter will have another flight;
if Candlemas day be cloudy with rain;
winter is gone and won't come again."

The "Candlemas" of the rhyme is the day within the Liturgical Year in which all candles are blessed for the year. The Feast Day being celebrated is the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple or the Purification of the Virgin. It was the custom in those days to present male children at the Temple 40 days after their birth. Since the Liturgical Calendar gives the birthdate of Jesus as December 25, then the date for this event would be February 2.

There are no set customs for Candlemas; however this blog talks about a charming Candlemas tea, and of course, according to the old Robert Herrick verse, all Christmas decorations must be down by this date.

CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE
by Robert Herrick

DOWN with the rosemary and bays,
     Down with the misletoe ;
Instead of holly, now up-raise
     The greener box (for show).

The holly hitherto did sway ;
     Let box now domineer
Until the dancing Easter day,
     Or Easter's eve appear.

Then youthful box which now hath grace
     Your houses to renew ;
Grown old, surrender must his place
     Unto the crisped yew.

When yew is out, then birch comes in,
     And many flowers beside ;
Both of a fresh and fragrant kin
     To honour Whitsuntide.

Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,
     With cooler oaken boughs,
Come in for comely ornaments
     To re-adorn the house.

Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold;
New things succeed, as former things grow old.


If the idea of having Christmas decorations up until February horrifies you, do remember that Christmas decorating was simply sprays of holly, rosemary, and bay leaves around the room, perhaps brightened with a bit of ribbon. In those colder days in homes with no central heat, these evergreens would last pretty well until February 2!

Not to mention that Herrick gives a good list of what would be called today "natural home decorations" through Whitsuntide (Pentecost).

In pre-Christian and non-Christian societies, the holiday was celebrated as Imbolc or Brigid's Day.

Here's the February 2 listing from Chambers' 19th century classic The Book of Days (this whole, fascinating book can be found on Google Books, and has its own website www.bookofdays.com).

And just a few more notes on Groundhog Day via StormFax.

22 December 2011

Poetry for the Winter Solstice

WINTER SOLSTICE

Journeying around the sun,
at Yule, she turns furthest from the light.
Here In the dark of the long night she is veiled,
and here she comes to the fullness of her union with creation.
To enter is to hold Death closest to our hearts.
And as we do, Death has her sensuous way.

Slowly, we come to a clearing, and the solstice.
And in deep stillness, we enter.
Our journey from the sun has come to its full,
and we wait in a rare quality of quietness.
Time is no more.

Here in this place, we gently slip into the emptiness, and depth of the void,
and bathe in the energies of creation.
when we are cleansed, and fully drunken from the cup,
she continues on her journey around, and we edge back closer to the light.
slipping out through her veils in birth, we are new, and journeying to the sun.

--Martin Jones


A LEAF FROM THE TREE OF SONGS

When harpers once in wooden hall
A shining chord would strike
Their songs like arrows pierced the soul
Of great and low alike

Aglow by hearth and candleflame
From burning branch ot ember
The mist of all their music sang
As if to ask in wonder

Is there a moment quite as keen
Or memory as bright
As light and fire and music (sweet)
To warm the winter's night?

--Adam Christianson


AN OLD MAN'S WINTER NIGHT

All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him -- at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off; -- and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon, such as she was,
So late-arising, to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man -- one man -- can't keep a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It's thus he does it of a winter night.

--Robert Frost


DECEMBER MOON

Before going to bed
After a fall of snow
I look out on the field
Shining there in the moonlight
So calm, untouched and white
Snow silence fills my head
After I leave the window.

Hours later near dawn
When I look down again
The whole landscape has changed
The perfect surface gone
Criss-crossed and written on
Where the wild creatures ranged
While the moon rose and shone.

Why did my dog not bark?
Why did I hear no sound
There on the snow-locked ground
In the tumultuous dark?

How much can come, how much can go
When the December moon is bright,
What worlds of play we'll never know
Sleeping away the cold white night
After a fall of snow.

--May Sarton


THE SHORTEST DAY

So the shortest day came, and the year died,
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive,
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, reveling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - Listen!!
All the long echoes sing the same delight,
This shortest day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, fest, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Welcome Yule!!

--Susan Cooper

07 November 2011

You Know That Old Myth About Suicides and the Holidays?

It's just that, a myth.

From Health.com: "Most people think the winter holidays are a risky time, but suicides are lowest in December and peak in the spring."

09 January 2011

Down and Up

I had done most of our regular shopping yesterday, running into the mob that I hoped I might miss: nope, everyone was stocking up in case it snowed Sunday night. So when we went to Publix today it was only for incidentals: K cereal since it was on twofer, "spots" Bandaids because I haven't yet found a pair of glasses that doesn't hurt my nose, our favorite trail mix we keep in the vehicles, and a few other things. Then we crossed Macland Road so James could get gasoline at Kroger (I had filled up at BJs when they still had gas) and I ran in to get a paper and more birdseed since it was on sale.

A funny: we brought our reusable bags in with us, but at the Publix checkout counter I told the guy I wanted plastic. Why? Well, because while James wears ankle-high boots to support his ankles all the time, all I have are leather Reeboks. No boots. However, plastic grocery bags over shoes will do in a pinch.

We also stopped at Lowes. I had no illusion that we could find an actual snow shovel; they don't sell them regularly around here, and if there were any, they disappeared yesterday. However, we did find a flat-edged shovel rather than the spade we had. Again, will do in a pinch. Also got two sale bags of bows.

Back at home, I went out on the porch to take any cloth or wood Christmas decorations down. Otherwise they would get wet in the snow/freezing rain and take days to dry. But James followed me out, so we ended up taking down everything, the lights, the wreath, the Moravian star, etc., and putting it all away. Then he got the winter boxes down, so by three o'clock the porch was redecorated for winter: snowmen, snowflakes, a mini-sled and -shovel, and a pine wreath with silvery leaves and a blue-silver bow. I also pulled the candoliers from the front windows and replaced them with hospitality candles.

Then we finished the cleanup from the Twelfth Night party last night: James loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters and put the boards away, and I cleared off and wiped the table down and moved it back into place, and vacuumed the upstairs again, and cleared off the coffee table. I also sorted the bows: I save the gold, red, and green ones for Christmas and use the other colors on birthday/other gifts.

By the time this was finished (we had squeezed a short lunch in there), it was nearly time for dinner. I sat and read a couple of mystery short stories, then went out to refill the bird feeders (one was nearly emptied after being refilled at 1 p.m. this afternoon—the birds were definitely stocking up on food against the cold!), and James started dinner going (plain rice and a Hormel dinner).