Loved all of this (and all of your deeply-toned, patient explorations). Especially liked the line about how warm 32 degrees can feel. Really relate to that after a long winter ❄️
I love winter and cold and dark so much that just seeing the title of this wonderful newsletter made me rub my hands together in glee and wait until I had an opportunity to really sink into it.
First, I will tell you that to the Anishinaabe people, November is Baashkaakodin-Giizis, or the Freezing Moon. Or at least it is that to many of us; we cover a vast landscape and there are subtle differences. It is certainly an apt name this year here where I live. We have actually been colder than what you are experiencing in the north! But we are warming, and today I had that first experience of winter, after a cold snap, when I walk outside and wonder if I have more coat on than I need; it was all of 20° outside. I love when that happens.
I hope that, wherever he is now, John Haines is smiling at being remembered so well here among us lately. 🙌🏾
I love the idea of the freezing moon. November indeed feels like that, the moon seems like a plate of icy bone lighting things up more determinedly with its cold. And I saw that you all were colder than here! The land always wants to keep us guessing--and realizing it's all not as different as we might pretend at times. :) I hope John Haines is smiling too--what a great thinker. Loved returning to his work this week. Thanks again for that. 💜
First, I love this: "It’s a time of long shadows, a world that speaks quietly of what doesn’t get said aloud under the warmth of the sun. And maybe that’s the point, if there is a point to be had. That like the Groke, we have to live with the cold and dark—to surrender to it as we find it, not fight it with false light, or create and believe a false understanding of it as menace."
In January I moved from DC to the south coast of Massachusetts -- both North and East -- and I made a commitment to learn to like the winter for itself, not as a necessary ill to get to Spring.
I will note that January truly is halfway to Spring, or at least the Vernal Equinox, and therefore not a complete winter. This week's super cold snap (along with some deadlines that require internet and my keyboard and thus kept me at my desk) are challenging that resolve. I find I need to get out in the cold to appreciate it.
Interesting that you were thinking about making that commitment to winter. The seasons are interesting here--was reading in Parker's book and have read the history elsewhere that the year was split in two in the Celtic and Anglo-Saxon/Scandinavian world--essentially winter and summer. Nov. 1 and May 1. And really, there is no spring here. The fall is gorgeous but is always over too quickly--but winter feels like the most real time of the year for this northern place.
I love your winter musings Freya, your poetic epiphanies carries me to your magical snow laden dreamland. I realise that there are certain harsh realities about staying in the northern hemisphere but every time you release such lyrical musings, you awaken a sense of awe and wonder for this soul. May you stay warm and comfortable through this winter. I love reading about northern winters.
You write so beautifully of the cold and dark of winter. To me, these things are what I look forward to every year, but it’s not the norm even here. Winter feels like a respite to me, permission to slow down, spend time looking inward and paying more attention to relations of all kinds. Everything feels both at rest and somehow more alive. The long days of summer are what I find exhausting, what makes me want to hide. Isn’t it strange the different ways humans respond to the way Earth just *is* without asking us?
It is so funny--trying to make sense of what we like rather than being able to accept it as it is. I do like the cold and winter so much now, for those same reasons you write of above. It's so needed, and now when I go home to Oregon in the winter I'm so struck by how never-cold it really is. I need and crave it now. And that sense of things at rest and yet more alive--yes! It's on the edge, everything feels a bit heightened in the cold. Also I'm with you on the long days of summer and exhaustion--up here the darkness recedes entirely in the summer and it feels manic, always on, always exposed. I am so ready for the night and cold to return by July. Thanks so much for reading.
My older sister was visiting recently. I hadn't seen her in 7 years -- she lives in California and has 3 high-needs kids and none of us has much money for family travel! Anyway, she was here in mid-October, and commented that she hasn't been in Montana in the fall in over 30 years. She left for college at 17 and never came back except for summer and winter visits. And she said it made her want to come more often because she found the relentlessly long days of summer so exhausting but really liked the calmer more rest-full time of autumn, when the weather's turned cooler and the daylight backs off a bit. I'd never really thought about that but loved the observation (and hope we'll be able to make it happen)!
Loved all of this (and all of your deeply-toned, patient explorations). Especially liked the line about how warm 32 degrees can feel. Really relate to that after a long winter ❄️
I love winter and cold and dark so much that just seeing the title of this wonderful newsletter made me rub my hands together in glee and wait until I had an opportunity to really sink into it.
First, I will tell you that to the Anishinaabe people, November is Baashkaakodin-Giizis, or the Freezing Moon. Or at least it is that to many of us; we cover a vast landscape and there are subtle differences. It is certainly an apt name this year here where I live. We have actually been colder than what you are experiencing in the north! But we are warming, and today I had that first experience of winter, after a cold snap, when I walk outside and wonder if I have more coat on than I need; it was all of 20° outside. I love when that happens.
I hope that, wherever he is now, John Haines is smiling at being remembered so well here among us lately. 🙌🏾
I love the idea of the freezing moon. November indeed feels like that, the moon seems like a plate of icy bone lighting things up more determinedly with its cold. And I saw that you all were colder than here! The land always wants to keep us guessing--and realizing it's all not as different as we might pretend at times. :) I hope John Haines is smiling too--what a great thinker. Loved returning to his work this week. Thanks again for that. 💜
I have lots of thoughts!!
First, I love this: "It’s a time of long shadows, a world that speaks quietly of what doesn’t get said aloud under the warmth of the sun. And maybe that’s the point, if there is a point to be had. That like the Groke, we have to live with the cold and dark—to surrender to it as we find it, not fight it with false light, or create and believe a false understanding of it as menace."
In January I moved from DC to the south coast of Massachusetts -- both North and East -- and I made a commitment to learn to like the winter for itself, not as a necessary ill to get to Spring.
I will note that January truly is halfway to Spring, or at least the Vernal Equinox, and therefore not a complete winter. This week's super cold snap (along with some deadlines that require internet and my keyboard and thus kept me at my desk) are challenging that resolve. I find I need to get out in the cold to appreciate it.
**
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Interesting that you were thinking about making that commitment to winter. The seasons are interesting here--was reading in Parker's book and have read the history elsewhere that the year was split in two in the Celtic and Anglo-Saxon/Scandinavian world--essentially winter and summer. Nov. 1 and May 1. And really, there is no spring here. The fall is gorgeous but is always over too quickly--but winter feels like the most real time of the year for this northern place.
I love your winter musings Freya, your poetic epiphanies carries me to your magical snow laden dreamland. I realise that there are certain harsh realities about staying in the northern hemisphere but every time you release such lyrical musings, you awaken a sense of awe and wonder for this soul. May you stay warm and comfortable through this winter. I love reading about northern winters.
Thanks so much Swarnali--I'm so glad that you find beauty in the descriptions of this northern place. Thanks as always for reading.
You write so beautifully of the cold and dark of winter. To me, these things are what I look forward to every year, but it’s not the norm even here. Winter feels like a respite to me, permission to slow down, spend time looking inward and paying more attention to relations of all kinds. Everything feels both at rest and somehow more alive. The long days of summer are what I find exhausting, what makes me want to hide. Isn’t it strange the different ways humans respond to the way Earth just *is* without asking us?
I find summer so frightening, too. ❤️🔥
Oof, the fires, too, yes 😟
It is so funny--trying to make sense of what we like rather than being able to accept it as it is. I do like the cold and winter so much now, for those same reasons you write of above. It's so needed, and now when I go home to Oregon in the winter I'm so struck by how never-cold it really is. I need and crave it now. And that sense of things at rest and yet more alive--yes! It's on the edge, everything feels a bit heightened in the cold. Also I'm with you on the long days of summer and exhaustion--up here the darkness recedes entirely in the summer and it feels manic, always on, always exposed. I am so ready for the night and cold to return by July. Thanks so much for reading.
My older sister was visiting recently. I hadn't seen her in 7 years -- she lives in California and has 3 high-needs kids and none of us has much money for family travel! Anyway, she was here in mid-October, and commented that she hasn't been in Montana in the fall in over 30 years. She left for college at 17 and never came back except for summer and winter visits. And she said it made her want to come more often because she found the relentlessly long days of summer so exhausting but really liked the calmer more rest-full time of autumn, when the weather's turned cooler and the daylight backs off a bit. I'd never really thought about that but loved the observation (and hope we'll be able to make it happen)!
Nighttime thirty below cold, flannel sheets and gratitude, lots and lots of gratitude.
Thank you for this wonderful essay.
So cozy. Thank you so much for reading.