THE CENTRE OF WINTER

Rain, sleet, snow, black ice, mountainous seas, power cuts, biting gale force winds ready to rip the feet from under you, what a lashing our island State has had these past few days. Things have abated a little but it ain’t over yet, and this description of a Minnesota winter seemed quite appropriate at the moment.

All the seasons here in the north move toward their own end, except winter, which moves towards its centre and sits there to see how long you can take it. Spring twitches impatiently in its seat like a child wanting to go outside, straining toward summer, and summer, all lush and showy, tumbles headlong toward the decay of fall. Fall comes and goes so fast it takes the breath away, arriving in brocades of red and gold and whipping them off in only a few weeks, leaving a landscape ascetic, stunned with loss.

Marya Hornbacher - The Centre of Winter

There's something about winter though, wild as it may be, that makes you feel alive. The extremities might be suffering, nose dripping, my eyes might be watering from the gust of wind sneaking behind my glasses, but compared to some places on the planet we have no idea what cold really is. Venturing outside might not be at the top of the list when things look bleak, but the landscape takes on a beauty all its own under a coating of snow, and with the warmth of a cosy fire beckoning we know we can wait out the next months until the seasons turn and the cycle begins anew.