Saturday, December 10, 2011

In Defence Of Winter

Absolutely breathtaking this morning.

Winter.....and snow. And a clear bright sky with the glow of the morning sun.


It's beautiful. Even the chicken pen is draped beautifully with a soft white blanket, gently cascading over the netting and wire fence.

The snow fell softly, quietly last night. No mighty winds, so it lays serenely, nestled into the branches and as a dress among the spruces.


This morning I see remnants of Rob's footprints as he went back and forth from the Inn, feeding the chickens, creating a path for our guests. The snow is not so thick that I can't see the remaining Brussels sprouts in the garden, or the forgotten cabbages, destined for the chicken coop. And the garlic is still visible, sprouting way too early. Go back to sleep my precious fall planted commodity. You are supposed to be gaining strength quietly under ground. Many more months will pass before you should show yourselves.

This year we seemed to ease into winter. And sometimes it's best in small doses initially. We never know how long this year's winter will last. And I think it is wise that we just don't jump into -30 degrees. We have to do that gradually, with some experience. Winter in the North Country takes up over 1/4 of our lives. We do have four seasons but winter feels like it takes up the biggest part of the year.

But the first snow is lovely this year. Actually, beautiful. It turns the landscape monochromatic. A concept we embrace at Lintengard. And seems to turn the landscape into a memory of itself....just painted white, with touches of brown and green as accents.

But growth takes place in the winter. Just as growth takes place in our personal lives when we allow tough situations, personal failures, and tragedies to stretch us and mold us into what God has for us. The seemingly cold and barrenness of winter makes it feel like nothing is happening. But life goes on, under the ground. The foundation is being built and strengthened and fed. Winter is a quiet time. A time to reflect and anticipate. (I'm already thinking about all the brightly colored catalogs I will be receiving after the new year...prompting me to experiment with different seeds and veggies).

Winter is a time to drown out the chaos of summer and fall, and to hang onto what is true. If we allow it to, it reminds us of who we are and if we are really reflective, it compels us to realize what could be our full potential and embrace our divinely ordained gifts and graces. It's a time for excitement about possibilities and adventures. And a time to receive. God is good.

Winter

2 comments:

Darlene Sinclair said...

Loved this. Thank you. There is something wondrous about the deep cold, the heavy silence, the seeming absence of life -- meditative and contemplative. Good thoughts. Thanks again!

rsctt said...

What beautiful pictures!

www,wayfarersquest-rsctt.blogspot.com