Someone asked me this morning about the weather where I lived and how it felt to me and about the energy of it. Good question, because everything —I mean everything is “energy”. And it can be “felt” and understood. That includes people, places, seasons, animals, objects, trees—and the list goes on. They are all at different speeds and different frequencies. But then, that is another subject matter which I will probably embark on talking about another day.
But I’ll get back to the original question , about the weather, how it felt and the energy of it. And this is how I replied.
I live in North Central Alabama in the foothills of the Appalachians. It is freezing here. To me, winter is clearing out and cleaning out time for much, and a time of seeing contrasts and appreciating.
Our pestering insects are leaving or passed on, many animals will not be able to stand the cold and will pass on. Saw some stray dogs yesterday—someone had emptied a whole bag of dog food out for them One of them had babies somewhere—her tits were drooping. The deer will be running—many from hunters. It is a good time to feel a hot cup of cocoa and a good movie.
It usually does not snow that much here. But last year I got snowed in at work—because the snow couldn’t melt—instead turned to ice. And many are not used to snow or ice here—so can’t drive on it–and shouldn’t be driving on it.
It is a time for relishing good memories. My special one is of when I was a child and stoking the fireplace (as it was the only heat in the house) at my Grandma’s. I was constantly being told to not get so close to the fire. And now, I hear everyone’s voices –my Grandma and Grandpa, my Mother and Dad. Oh what precious times—and sleeping under 14 quilts (not exactly that many, but a lot !) in the cold bedroom with 2-3 cousins—cause we wanted to be with each other. Before daybreak, Grandma was already up, had the fireplace going, and the floor had turned warm once again, and the bisquits, fatback, saltpork, and blackberry jelly was waiting for us.
My Grandpa built that house. It actually would only be considered a cabin by today’s standards. But it was wonderful. Much later, after my Grandpa died , and my Grandma had to make a living by sewing for the public; my 4 year old daughter and myself moved in there. It was just “us and Grandma”. That’s where I started to take hold of my life and build it for my daughter and me. I started to Nursing School. I finished and then we got our own place.
Later, when no one was at home; the house burned down—to the ground. It took me a long time to get over that. I had dreams about me selling it (and in the dream, it wasn’t burnt down.) and I cried in the dreams because I didn’t want to sell it. The energy of that place was always “home”—so now I just bring that energy back to me to relish at times. I will sit in Grandma’s old rocker and hear the floor creek and feel the bottom of the chair roll over the planks of the wooden floor. And then I can hear my cousin– with her high pitched southern twang —call me to go outside. Grandma says “Don’t slam that screen door.”
So Winter is indeed a time for me to relish, appreciate, love and remember people.