Winter slumber
The change of seasons in Michigan is one of my favorite parts of living in this beautiful, great (lakes) state. Spring brings the bright greens and fresh smells of new growth and bulbs bursting through the cold, long-dormant ground. We spring into summer with its warmth, gardens bursting with life and color, and those languid, long days of light. The bright colors of fall are accompanied by crisp mornings, final harvests, and the smell of wood fires, all sentinels of the impending winter. We anxiously await, and often dread, the first snowflake, but by the time winter arrives we are ready for quieter days and time to replenish and rejuvenate our souls.
Rachel Carson said it best in Silent Spring:
“There is symbolic as well as actual beauty in the migration of the birds, the ebb and flow of the tides, the folded bud ready for the spring. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature, the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after the winter.”
When autumn comes at the cabins, there’s a familiar routine of removing the docks and boats, winterizing the buildings, and packing everything away from the cold, harsh elements. As the snow blankets the land, the cabins are buried and snuggle in for a long, winter rest.
Just as some animals hibernate, I always take time in the winter to get some extra rest and feed my mind a little more than my body. I spend more time indoors, catching up on my favorite Netflix series, and indulging in books and recipes that I may have set aside over the hectic summertime.
Usually in February though I start to get the creative itch. I spend my free time browsing through seed catalogs and dreaming about upgrades and renovations for the cabins. I get reinspired. I like to think of it as the natural progression of life: birth, growth, decay and hibernation, rebirth.
Seasons pass. We lose people we love along the way. We change, and we change again. Friends and acquaintances continue to join and exit our parade. The years roll on.
Still, the cyclical pattern of the seasons is just as it should be: comforting.
