Winter

People wonder what winter is like here. Being coastal is its own category. We get rain when inland gets snow. We get wind when others get sleet. We might dodge a storm completely that lays down a foot elsewhere.

In between all that, there are sparkly days to wander in the woods. I rely on actual science to know my body needs the sun, the ocean ions, the microbes on the bark that I smell.

I have made friends with the dark weeks around solstice. I lean into the mystery looking for the light at the other end. I often feel very small this time of year, enmeshed with snowflakes and huddled birds. The morning light is weak but reminds me to stand tall and sing to the mountain. I stretch my energies to the burrowed squirrels, the hungry crows, and the frozen trees. 

Summer will soon outpace my deep winter healing time. The breezes will change and I’ll sit beneath the canopy again. But for now I linger with Sailhouse in a suspended animation, knowing the seeds are in the palm of my hand waiting for the ground to thaw.​

I have made friends with the dark weeks around solstice. I lean into the mystery looking for the light at the other end.