I had a little chuckle when I read your line about wanting to live in England where there is 10 months of gardening season. We have more like 10 months of autumn. It rains, it's dark and miserable for so much of the year. The skies from November to March feel so low. I also don't deal well with winter and seem to be permanently cold as soon as October starts. Although the temperatures rarely drop below zero, the constant damp means there is no escape from the cold which chills me down to the bone. But hey, spring is nearly here and I rejoice at the sight of first daffodils and crocuses.
I have found the past few winters to be really hard, which I do think is related to aging—I feel the cold more, and the exhaustion of dealing with it, and we don’t even have much snow, and I don’t have to shovel/drive, but still. I’ve read and re-read Katherine May’s Wintering, which I’m sure you’re familiar with but wanted to mention, as it’s a good perspective on cycles and shifts. Sending sun 🌞 in the meantime!
Yes, I love Wintering. (For some reason I gave it a way a few years ago, and have regretted it every winter since.) Solidarity in the cold, and with aging--spring will come soon to NYC--maybe I will come visit!
I resonated with so much of this - you write beautifully and express what so many of us are doing- giving ourselves permission to be generative and spring-like with our creating and growing despite the dark drumbeat of tyranny and dissolution.
It is hard to know exactly what to say about this except to say a simple thank you. A reminder of so many things, of the cold darkness of winter, how it envelops you, consumes you and, for you, makes you cold to the bones.
The image of the garden as an antidote to what is happening in America is a good one and may explain why my partner is spending much more time with the catalogs that come -- when they come because the Post Office is in such rough shape (think Trump 1.0) the mail comes but once a week.
Arizona sounds nice right now, particularly as we await the snowstorm headed our way.
I had a little chuckle when I read your line about wanting to live in England where there is 10 months of gardening season. We have more like 10 months of autumn. It rains, it's dark and miserable for so much of the year. The skies from November to March feel so low. I also don't deal well with winter and seem to be permanently cold as soon as October starts. Although the temperatures rarely drop below zero, the constant damp means there is no escape from the cold which chills me down to the bone. But hey, spring is nearly here and I rejoice at the sight of first daffodils and crocuses.
Well thank you for that perspective, I suppose. There is no utopia. I’m so glad the bulbs are blooming where you are!
I have found the past few winters to be really hard, which I do think is related to aging—I feel the cold more, and the exhaustion of dealing with it, and we don’t even have much snow, and I don’t have to shovel/drive, but still. I’ve read and re-read Katherine May’s Wintering, which I’m sure you’re familiar with but wanted to mention, as it’s a good perspective on cycles and shifts. Sending sun 🌞 in the meantime!
Yes, I love Wintering. (For some reason I gave it a way a few years ago, and have regretted it every winter since.) Solidarity in the cold, and with aging--spring will come soon to NYC--maybe I will come visit!
Let me know if you do! Would love to connect!
I resonated with so much of this - you write beautifully and express what so many of us are doing- giving ourselves permission to be generative and spring-like with our creating and growing despite the dark drumbeat of tyranny and dissolution.
Generative and spring-like, yes yes, you say it beautifully. As best we can.
It is hard to know exactly what to say about this except to say a simple thank you. A reminder of so many things, of the cold darkness of winter, how it envelops you, consumes you and, for you, makes you cold to the bones.
The image of the garden as an antidote to what is happening in America is a good one and may explain why my partner is spending much more time with the catalogs that come -- when they come because the Post Office is in such rough shape (think Trump 1.0) the mail comes but once a week.
Arizona sounds nice right now, particularly as we await the snowstorm headed our way.
Thanks for this piece.
Thank you for reading and for your kind words, Geoffrey! Solidarity to your partner with her seed catalogs. They're a good metaphor for many things.