Farewell Winter
I will always love you best... ❄️🤍
Warning! Excessive photos alert!
I have been saying my tender goodbyes to Winter. She was magnificent this year. She held her snow on the ground until last week when the brown grass on the hill slowly began its return.
It was a winter of light but plentiful snow for shoveling and cold and dry temps rather than damp and bone-chilling. And lots of blue sunny skies.
I give her a whopping 99%. The one percent is because she was expensive due to plowing and sanding my scary driveway. But that’s not her fault. And there was nowhere I needed to go. My Taurus Nature-Loving Homebody Moon and Rising Signs were so very happy sitting in front of my woodstove reading and writing or wandering in the bugless snowy woods.
Did I mention no bugs? For months on end?
Every spring and summer since I moved to New Hampshire, I’ve done my fair share of bug bitching. They officially call it Bug Season here, but I’m pretty sure there’s a gag order on the tourist industry for using that term.
In the winter, all I need to do is layer with merino or alpaca wool and have warm boots, coats, and hats. Snowshoes. I schooled my fellow Vata friend this winter, and she was so happy to get out for walks in the woods without freezing.
Each spring, I promise not to talk about the bugs too much. About having to check myself for ticks constantly. Laying in bed, itching from black fly or deer fly bites. Even worse…finding a tick in your bed. 😳 Or horror of horrors - firmly attached in a warm, cozy spot on your body.
Please don’t leave a comment telling me how important they are and how we all serve a purpose here.
Well, go ahead if you need to. I know this logically, but they bug me so much! :)
It is glorious to see when the Dragonfly Brigade arrives!
They do their best to bring down the bite count (as do the birds!), and who doesn’t love Dragonflies? I have one hanging around my neck as I type. Not a real one - a charm. Maybe if I wear it during Bug Season, I’ll be protected. You never know, and you can be sure I’ll try!
As much as I dearly love Winter and have savored her over the past several months, I’ve promised myself to engage fully with wonder the joys each of the other three seasons brings.
The bright, otherworldly green of spring.
Baby plants emerging everywhere.
Rushing streams and rivers.
Black Bears who come to say hello.
Warm summer sunshine.
Kayaking on the lakes.
Ancient-looking mama Turtles who come looking for a safe place to lay their eggs.
Watching my tree friends change from naked and dormant to fully clothed, waving their new leaves in the wind.
The different birds who migrate here in the spring.
And then fall will come (a close favorite to winter) with her New England showiness. Honestly, it’s a couple of months feeling like you’re living in a painting.
And so, just days before the Spring Equinox on the 20th (the beginning of the astrological new year and “officially” the first day of spring), some of my favorite wild friends returned.
First, there was Chip! I was leaning against my kitchen counter, leaving a voice message for a friend, when I shouted, “Oh my God! Chip is back!” I exited the message just in time to snap a photo of him as he came to say hello. Well, I’m guessing he was looking for peanuts…
Of course, I can’t be 100% sure it’s Chip. The main entrance to his hidey-hole is in front of my kitchen window, still covered with snow. And just yesterday, I saw at least four Chips running in and out of the rocks that guard my back door.
Does Chip have a partner? Are these his offspring? What was he doing down there all winter??
The next day, Clara showed up!
Well, I can’t say for sure that she’s Clara because she’s back with other precious Mourning Doves, and they all look alike.
I wrote a post a while back about my love of Doves and Pigeons. It’s quite a remarkable story.
The other day, I was outside early, enjoying the foggy, monochromatic morning, when I heard the mournful call. Was it Clara? I’ll never know.
Less deep snow on the trails means I can visit some of my favorite trees. You might recognize them from past stories.
There’s Merlin, who has to be reached by carefully stepping off the path. You never know what’s under the snow. He is so worth the effort.
He might not look like much, but I can tell you that when I approach him, I can feel his Magic. Hence, the name Merlin! Another portal, much like the Womb Tree.
On the edge of the Merlin Woods stands Gaius, an elderly wise one from whom I love seeking counsel.
The cambium layer (just under the outer bark) reminds me of an elephant’s trunk. It looks ancient. And when I touched him, the cambium layer was very cold, unlike the other exposed layers. I wonder if my tree-loving brother to the north,
would know about this.
I noticed that Gaius had been wounded since I saw him last, and Pine resin/aka pitch/aka sap, had come to the rescue to heal him. The sticky substance had hardened, and I placed my sore hands on him, hoping the magical healing would flow into them.
Substack keeps reminding me that my post is too long for email, so I’ll cut the dialogue and share a few more photos of new friends and old friends I encountered on my walks last week. If you’re listening rather than reading, there are captions below the photos.
Don’t be frightened! They’re all very friendly and wise.
I was in a reverie during my wanders. So many old and new friends were calling for attention. It may seem like I’m not fully present because of all of these photos, but I assure you - my phone is OFF except when the artist in me can’t hold back. It gives me so much Joy, and honestly, I think the Nature beings love it, too! Sometimes, I ask them, “Shall we do a little photoshoot?”
I am always thinking of you when I am out in the woods. I can’t wait to get home and try to capture the feeling and the healing that happens by sharing it here.
You might think, “Well, it's easy for her to experience these things. Her backyard is a forest!” But guess what? I did the exact same thing when I lived in the city. And you can, too.
I lived in the most populous city in the US - New York City for over a decade before moving across the river to Jersey City for another six years.
The Hudson River (AKA the Mightly Mahicanituk) became my friend and confidant. She was just minutes from me on foot or bike.
The trees that lined her also became my friends. I have a piece of one of the Willows, cut down right before I moved, sitting on my windowsill to remind me of those city days.
Wherever you are in the world, there are trees and rivers, rocks and clouds, and all the elements to engage with. Just step outside and let the magic and healing begin.
Circling back around to winter ending, it doesn’t really feel like it’s over until the snow is all gone and stays gone.
I wrote a post last April 3rd and said this:
“Well, we’ve had two major snowstorms since the spring equinox (one dumped more than 2 feet), and another one is on the way as I sit here typing. We did have some warm spring-like weather, and just as the snow was starting to disappear, it returned—along with harrowing winds.
It should just be called back-and-forth season.”
Snow is in the forecast for tomorrow. :)
If you haven’t read my post from last month on Kapha Season, you might want to read how Ayurveda views this time of year. It makes a whole lot more sense to me. So many people are sick right now, and I really believe if they followed some common sense practices, they could avoid feeling miserable.
I have some news to share with my subscribers, but I will send it in a separate email.
Much Love,
Barbara
Fresh batches of Elderberry Syrup are still being made to order, and my new batch of Forest Oil is bottled and ready for sale. It’s called Forest Oil because it smells like the forest! 🌲🌲🌲
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You're making me love winter too, Barbara. And the photos! The lumpy one on the ground looks like a tortoise. And the blue crystal is definitely a woman's dress. On black bears, I'm sure you know this Mary Oliver poem, but it came in my email today, so I'm sure it's meant for you:
Somewhere
a black bear
has just risen from sleep
and is staring
down the mountain.
All night
in the brisk and shallow restlessness
of early spring
I think of her,
her four black fists
flicking the gravel,
her tongue
like a red fire
touching the grass,
the cold water.
There is only one question:
how to love this world.
I think of her
rising
like a black and leafy ledge
to sharpen her claws against
the silence
of the trees.
Whatever else
my life is
with its poems
and its music
and its cities,
it is also this dazzling darkness
coming
down the mountain,
breathing and tasting;
all day I think of her –
her white teeth,
her wordlessness,
her perfect love.
Oh, JOY.
You know what, Barbara, I think you could make a living as a photographer.
And: Just READING your posts is a healing experience. Thank you, my dear friend (deer friend) !!!
xo xo xo