Surprising Snow in Allerton 10122022
Although 2022 is drawing to a close and a new year is looming, we will still, in the Northern Hemisphere, be in the season of winter. In that respect, the 31st December 2022 and the 1st January 2023 are not so very different. Given that, in this blog post I am thinking about the word ‘wintering’ – which has a variety of meanings.
Some native UK mammals winter by hibernating: piling on the pounds, then curling up tightly in burrows or dreys, to wait out the cold in a cosy cocoon of moss, feathers and leaves. Dragonfly larvae lurk in pond silt, safe from the ice and frost, for up to 95% of their life. Wading birds and waterfowl fly long distances to over-winter on our shores to take advantage of the nutritious saltmarsh and mudflats, whilst others such as pink-footed geese graze on fields of stubble and grass. Migratory passerines prefer berry-rich shrubs and trees; redwings and fieldfare are even called ‘winter thrushes’. A ‘waxwing winter’ was forecast this winter: one where the country would – hopefully – witness an irruption of these garrulous (by name – Bombycilla garrulus – and nature) Scandinavian migrants, whose Trimphone-like calls can be heard in gardens, supermarket car parks and anywhere else where bright orange and red rowan, hawthorn and cotoneaster berries grow in profusion. Until December, they were largely confined to Scotland and the North East – but have recently arrived in the North West along with the snow and ice.
Bohemian waxwing – photo by Николай from Pixabay
People in this country are also literally wintering this year: many are unable to heat their homes, or have to choose between heating and eating. There are reports of people staying in bed all day to keep warm. What a dreadful life that must be! Brought low by the cold – which new research has proven can worsen depression and loneliness on top of the actual physical discomfort. Perhaps we should adopt the birds’ migratory habits. Indeed, in the USA, human ‘snowbirds’ flock from colder northern states to warmer southern ones like Florida, using gas-guzzling RVs instead of wings to power their flight. But wouldn’t we rather stay and be cheerful and cosy in our own homes?
Winter warmers – photo by Jill Wellington from Pixabay
Katherine May delved deeper into the metaphorical side of wintering, observing in a talk about her book of the same name, “Everybody winters at one time or another… We cannot always live close to the sun.” Here, the wintering is internal, a drawing inwards and away from life, brought on, maybe, by overwhelm in the form of stress, anxiety, grief – any of a number of difficult emotions. But perhaps framing this state as ‘wintering’ means that we can locate it in a seasonal change rather than thinking of it as being permanent: life as cyclical, not linear. And link it to the natural slowing down that comes with the darker time of year, knowing that a re-awakening will come in the spring – whether that be a literal or a metaphorical one.
The pagan year – photo by Katuschka from Pixabay
We could follow the ancient peoples who celebrated their new year at Samhain, the night of 31st October, believing that everything begins in the dark (their ‘days’ actually started at sunset). Although we are moving into a period of darkness, which can be a depressing time for many and even has its own ‘disorder’ (seasonal affective disorder or SAD), we could view it as they did: a time of rest and refreshment, of imagination and fertility. Could we then meet the dark, unproductive times differently? Could we see ourselves as deciduous trees, shedding what is no longer needed, strengthening our roots against the winter storms to come, nurturing our inner selves with practices from the Danes’ hygge (“coziness of the soul”, in one description)? Biding our time for the renewal and rebirth that comes with spring? It is cheering to think so, as we watch, with hope in our hearts, the lightening of the dark that comes after the shortest day, as the world turns on its tilted axis and the north lifts its face towards the sun again.
Late December at Stonehenge – photo by Simon Wakefield CC BY 2.0 httpscreativecommons.orglicensesby2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Original version published in Winter Solace, a Naturewrights publication, December 2022, as Musing on the Many Meanings of ‘Wintering’