Loving a Specific Place, Especially in the Winter

We've been, for the past several weeks, enduring much-colder-than-normal temperatures here in the melodic MidAtlantic. This weekend's snow storm mostly -- miraculously -- missed the areas around my little cottage, but we had really strong winds that made it feel even colder outside than one might have thought from just looking at the thermometer.

But this morning when I stepped out on the deck, clad only in a nightgown and bathrobe, to feed the animals, it felt almost like Spring. We're on the cusp of a warming trend that may make it positively pleasant to get out this weekend and work in the slumbering garden. In fact, I can see the 1st tiny green tips of some crocus and daffodils peeking up in a sunny, protected bit of the backyard. That used to worry me; I'd think how much Winter was left and that a few days of sun had tricked those Spring flowers into showing up, but I've learned that, short of an ice storm once the buds form, they'll be fine. They know what they're doing. And already I can feel the days becoming longer and the nights finally beginning to recede.

And, so, I'm back to bundling up and sitting outside (in a sunny spot; I'm learning from the daffs!) in communion with this tiny bit of Earth.

And yet, much of the East Coast is still buried under a comforter of snow, which some people love. Here's a great post from Dark Mother Goddess showing her garden covered in snow and describing how she uses the snow to deepen her relationship with her Earth and her family. It's no secret that Louv has made me a big advocate for getting children outside; I love and want to imitate the enthusiasm that DMG is teaching her son for the outdoors, be it snow-covered garden or sunny shore.

And here's Sally Smith working with the snow to create charming bits of art.

Sally's tiny houses always remind me of Storybook Homes, which I imagine would look magical in the snow. I've bought their book of plans for very small cottages and am beginning to dream about a retirement home in the West Virginia Mountains. Any home I'd build there would have to be built for snow.

Margaret Roach reprises some great 2010 posts about winter meals from the freezer (which can be a wonderful way to remember the Summer garden!) and snow in the garden, even on electric green lawn chairs!

Finally, Lunaea has a wonderful post about snow in Ireland.

And, so, all of Winter is a gift from the Goddess, a time to love the bones of our gardens and to dream about the coming of Spring.

May it be so for you.

Picture found here.