WINTER AT LAST

After a rather mild autumn, winter took a while to get moving down on our little Island, but it became difficult to concentrate on work yesterday afternoon as the snow started to fall right outside the office. An Antarctic blast which roared throughout the night brought our first decent dump of snow for the season on the Great Western Tiers, but you had to be up early to appreciate it. By 9am the sun had already melted most of what we could see on the northern side of the mountain where we’re situated, but some headed up for a better look and a bit of a play.

Funny how with the changes of the seasons, my habits seem to develop corresponding changes. Winter is my ‘hermit’ phase. The minute I get home from work, on go the ugg boots and trackie dacks and old woolly jumper, the fire is lit, coffee made, I grab my blanket and curl up on the couch to read for about an hour, and then when I can be bothered I start thinking about dinner. You’d be hard pressed to get me out of the house on any evening during winter unless something exceptional is happening; I much prefer to be warm and cosy.

I remember as a kid spending a fair bit of time in the kitchen during winter, for the delicious smells of winter soups and stews and puddings drew you there from any point in the house. The wind might have been howling, money might have been a bit scarce, but to see my mum going about her ordinary daily tasks gave me a feeling of ‘all’s right with the world.’

There’s something reassuring about finding a place of warmth, a place where we belong. Unfortunately for many, finding that with their own family simply isn’t possible, so the business of attaching oneself to a ‘family’ of some description where you can be yourself and feel safe can become a major preoccupation. I live very frugally and some would consider my existence pretty spartan, but I know I find it confronting when I compare my lot with that of others who are struggling.

I might live on my own, but my family extends far beyond my own children and their wives and my grandchildren. My siblings and all their tribes, my workmates, some of whom have been friends for decades, and other friends I still stay in contact with even though we meet up only rarely, are all part of my extended family. If I’m to be the person I’m meant to be, I need them all.

‘No man is an island’ is a much hackneyed phrase, and no matter how much I might enjoy retreating into my winter cave after a busy day, the need for meaningful interaction with others and a place to belong is in us all.