Share

Listening to winter: A reflection from Sal

Winter nature demands we pay attention, to its many moods and our own. I brave the elements and feel the joy of being in and of the season, alone and a little wild.

Here we are.  

In winters depth sunrise emerges, sometimes sulkily, into our brief daylight hours before gloaming evenings and full dark skies return.  For me, a time to hibernate and be dormant, cosy in my hobbit hole of wintery comfort, emerging now and then to bracing cold and frosty toes, lashing wind and rain, splooshing through deep water in wellies. 

I love winter weather, when there is warmth to return to. There are currently purple-pink-baby blue skies outside my window, with skeletal frames of trees silhouetted against the horizon that leave my fingers itching to draw them in all their open, vulnerable brilliance.  

Winter nature demands we pay attention, to its many moods and our own. I brave the elements and feel the joy of being in and of the season, alone and a little wild.

Solstice and the turning of the year, as millennia before. I reflect on how “Hope is the thing with feathers” as Emily Dickinson wisely wrote. One of my favourite winter pursuits is exploring winter tree buds – the sticky Horse Chestnut, boxing glove Hazel, purple haze Alder.

Purple haze alder catkins

Spring is already here, just waiting for the signal to go BOOM!! This helps me feel good, and I grin, almost against my best wintry judgement (which can be inclined towards seriousness and reserve). 

Winter can be a time of storytelling and story listening. I am so lucky to have nature tales to tell, communities to hear me. My wish is that everyone finds a willing ear they can whisper their own nature story to. 

Maybe, during this sometimes sleepy and reflective season, we are ideally placed to take the time to be the ear, and listen deeply to another’s tale, witnessing them grow and deepen that relationship with nature in the telling. Whether it’s a cosy moment, a feel-good experience, or a small action you took for nature, you’re welcome to share your reflection with us. 

If you’d like to share a winter reflection of your own, you can email us at hello@somersetwildlife.org

Related blog posts