Winter Into Spring


I enjoy the quiet stillness and solitude of nature that come with this time of year.  From the Winter Solstice throughout January and now into February, the woods behind my house silently beckon to me.  The White Oak and Red Cedar share their strength and integrity.  The Willow teaches me how to bend.  All have their stories to tell.  So each morning I walk into the woods and listen. 




I walk down to the pond and along the creek.  The creek ran strong when we bought this land in 1996.  But over time, with less and less rainfall each year, by last summer the creek stopped flowing and the pond was bone dry.  Our long drought made it seem like it would never flow again.  I think now about how I decided to make the drought an opportunity to dig a deeper pond.  The new “pond” was a big empty hole for weeks and weeks.  I remember hoping and believing that by the following spring the pond would be full.  With no rain for weeks the outlook was bleak.  But in December it started to rain and by the end of January, the pond was full!  I didn’t have to wait for Spring!  Now the creek is running strong again, the pond is full and the water is flowing!  I’m grateful and filled with joy.


 Our southern Winter is usually mild and colored mostly with soft greys, mossy greens and browns. 


In the winter I love to lie on the ground under the trees.  I like to imagine myself part of the earth and feel myself part of the trees and the birds and the air. I like to think of the Root Children, resting underground. 


The bare branches and vibrant green of pine and cedar against blue sky gives me a new perspective on life.


Winter is a beautiful and magical time of year.  This is the perfect time for introspection, for going deep, for long intimate visits with the Root Children.  I enjoy spending time with my woodland friends.





 But Spring is just around the corner.  The daffodils have been blooming since early January. 


The hyacinths and yellow jessamine are also blooming.  Just yesterday I noticed the early trees are waking up to bud.  In the garden the daylilies, lemon balm, spearmint and other summer plants are pushing up through the soil.  I can imagine the Root Children are very busy preparing for the glorious Spring show.  I am thinking that I may not be quite ready for Spring.  I’d like for Winter to stay for a while longer.   But no, it’s all a cycle, always changing, always ebbing and flowing.  Life is like that.