It may be slightly rude to say this out loud right now…
When half the country is worried about “the storm of the century” and people are posting about empty store shelves and fallen trees…
But I’m craving winter.
Not the travel delays. Not the busted pipes. Not the white-knuckle drives.
I mean winter—the real kind. The kind that arrives with authority and says, “Enough. Go inside now.” (After water tanks are checked and animals are fed, of course…) The kind that shuts the door on the endless doing and forces a person to sit down and just… be.
Because this winter has been wrong.
We’ve had stretch upon stretch of sixty-degree days that make no sense at all. No snow. Endless violent winds. The prairie is tired and brown, waiting for the mercy of a soft white blanket… but none comes. And while plenty of people act like wearing a t-shirt outside in December is a gift, to me it’s alarming.
It feels like the calendar is lying. Like the world is out of tune.
Because I’ve always craved seasons— both the literal and figurative kind.
Not just because I’m a gardener and a rancher. Not just because there’s a practical satisfaction in the rhythm of planting, growing, harvesting, storing, and resting.
But I need seasons because I’m human.
And so are you.
And we humans were not made to be “on” all the time.
I feel a twinge of frustration when I see the countdowns online toward lengthening days and planting season. I want to yell, “Slow down! Those days will come soon enough!”
It seems we’ve collectively forgotten that stillness is part of the point.
That the discomfort of the dark and the cold drives us deeper inward.
I once heard someone say, “Nothing grows all the time except cancer,” and that sentence lodged itself in my brain. I can’t remember who said it, but I know it’s true.
If you look at anything healthy—soil, trees, animals, human beings—there’s a rhythm. Expansion and contraction. Effort and rest. Growth then dormancy.
And dormancy isn’t failure.
It’s part of the design.
Winter is not a mistake. It’s not a holding pattern. It’s not the world wasting time.
It’s the world doing what it’s supposed to do.
And this year, more than ever, I can feel myself being pulled toward that truth in a very specific way.
Fire has been calling to me this year more than ever before.
I can’t get enough of it.
The wood stove, candle flame, smoke and splinters and bits of pine sprinkled across my living room floor. I welcome it all.
“Come closer,” the fire says. “Slow down. Stay awhile.”
The fire makes darkness feel like an old friend. Not ominous. Not heavy. More like a blanket you didn’t realize you needed until it settled over your shoulders.
The kind of darkness that whispers, You can stop now. You can be small for a while. You can be unfinished.
I need that this year. Stillness. Reflection. Fires and tea and candles and books. I have the intense urge to hibernate… Not in a dramatic “I’m moving to a cabin and becoming feral” sort of way (actually…. maybe….), but in the deeply human way of needing space to feel.
To notice.
To think my thoughts all the way through.
I relish the early nights. The way winter makes the world smaller, like it’s simplifying my options.
When winter is winter, you don’t feel guilty for saying no. There’s no push to optimize or squeeze productivity out of every last second.
You can just… be.
You can read the books that piled up in the corner all summer. You can sit with a cup of tea long enough for it to go cold. You can stare into the wood stove and let your brain ruminate and process.
I understand why people count down to spring. I’ve done it myself.
Spring is intoxicating. It’s the first green blade pushing up through the mud like a tiny miracle. It’s the first calf on wobbly legs. It’s the moment you smell thawed earth and the sun touches your skin for the first time in months.
But I wonder if we’ve started treating spring like salvation, like it’s more valuable than its sister seasons.
As if, once we get to the next thing, the next season, the next version of ourselves, we’ll finally feel okay.
All while winter is standing in the doorway, trying to hand us the very thing we say we want—rest, quiet, simplicity—and we keep brushing past it.
This winter, I refuse to do that.
I am letting winter be fully winter.
Because this season has gifts. And winter will tell you the truth… if you let it.
It reveals what’s sturdy and what’s flimsy.
It reveals the roots of what you’ve been ignoring during the busy months.
It shows you where the drafts and cracks are.
Winter is the season that doesn’t let you fake it.
So if you’re reading this and you’ve been feeling that itchy impatience—counting down the days, clenching your jaw through January, waiting for your “real life” to start…
What if you didn’t?
What if you let winter do what it was designed to do?
Let some things go quiet on purpose.
Stop trying to grow in every direction all the time.
Sit with the darkness—and let it teach you something.
Light will come. It always does.
But for now, I’m keeping the kettle warm. I’m lighting the candle. I’m feeding the fire. I’m letting the world be small and slow and still.
And I’m giving myself permission to be the same.
Let winter be winter, my friends.
Let it hold you for a while.
Absolutely awesome. I read it out loud to my husband. And we both agree with you!!! Thankyou!!!
I love this! I’ve always loved and appreciated winter for the season that it is, that it was always meant to be, for the things it forces you to slow down and feel and contemplate. Thank you for sharing!
Love this, and I think it’s so important. I also wish we lived on the 13 month calendar, where months functioned on the 28 day cycle that aligned with the moon, with our bodies, with the seasons, and so much more. Where intuition and understanding thrived and seasons were respected… maybe one day soon humanity will shift back to this way of life, but until then, I’ll do my best to live in the moment and feel each season, whether the seasons of the year or the seasons of our lives. Happy wintering to you. <3
I’ve felt this way all winter. My mind tells my body it should be doing something but then I say to myself, it’s the season to knit, put wood on the fire, cook on my wood cookstove and not the crock pot(love it).
Yes!! Go WITH nature, the universe: moon’s 28-29 day cycle- women, too. The Hebrew calendar is 28-29 day/ month with added MONTH in FREQUENT “Leap year” & holidays tied to agriculture cycles
YES, wintering is natural and necessary! I love you for saying it out loud.
THIS! I’m so glad I’m not the only one who loves the stillness of winter. Thank you for sharing.
I’m with ya, Jill! Thanks for the reminder!
I agree! It forces me to stay inside more, relax more in the evening, more time to cook, more time to reflect on what I’m learning from the Bible! We live in MI – it feels almost like the tundra at times with all the snow, wind, bitter cold but… at the same time, it gives us opportunity to just breathe and slow down, spend an evening at home, enjoying the quiet. Thanks for sharing your ‘ponderings’.
I don’t have anything insightful to add but I wanted to drop a comment here to say that I feel the same.
I’m looking outside as I write this and we have only old and crunchy snow on the ground at the moment. It’s usually a deep and comforting layer that wraps everything and makes for magical scenes.
Even as we’re missing out on the big beautiful winters we usually see here, I find myself wanting and needing to slow down and be quiet. I love the busy season with the million projects to do and that sense of satisfaction from creation but I wouldn’t be able to do it all year long.
Thanks for the reminder to give ourselves permission to enjoy some down time!
Tis bee you tea full.
Your words, first whispered to my soul/spirit. Then I reread them . Slowly.
I can apply your words of wisdom to our human seasons.
Birth. To. Spring.
Growing. To. Summer.
Harvesting. To. Autumn.
(Such as children becoming young adults before your very eyes.
“Retired” senior. To winter.
Where one almost or does become the observer. The “bee” still.
Not dying. But becoming alive, should the good Lord gift you the days.
To perhaps, find a new purpose.
To look within the fire. The spark of quietly reflecting upon “being still”.
Thank you ever so much.
Btw…purchased your exquisite Old Fahioned on Purpose.
Using it daily…right with my page worn Bible…
mama t
Homesteader all my live long days…circa 1952
As usual, beautifully written and inspiring. Here is Little Prairie Wisconsin our winter has been harsh with intense cold and wind. I’ve had winters like the one you’re having where the ground ached to be blanketed with snow.
I hesitate to say this because it interrupts the mood and tone you’ve set to the discussion of winter. Weather is being manipulated I think. The skies are always being sprayed and the color in them isn’t right.
Thanks for reminding me to slow down, light a candle and be in this season that I truly love.
Jill, thank you for expressing so beautifully my feelings about winter! I always think of it as a cozy time to rest and feel like spring always comes too quickly.
Here is a poem I enjoy called SHADOWS IN THE FIRE.
I SIT BESIDE MY WINTER FIRE,
THE FLAMES ARE WARM AND BRIGHT.
I WATCH THE SHADOWS FLICKER
‘TIL LONG INTO THE NIGHT.
THE ORANGE AND RED AND GOLDEN FLAMES
ARE BEAUTIFUL TO SEE,
I LOOK DOWN AT MY FAITHFUL DOG
WHOSE HEAD RESTS UPON MY KNEE.
QUIET WINTER EVENINGS,
AND MOMENTS SPENT ALONE,
RECALL A HUNDRED LITTLE JOYS
AND SORROWS I HAVE KNOWN.
WIND BRUSHES UP AGAINST THE DOOR,
BUT IT IS BOLTED TIGHT.
I HAVE INVITED MEMORIES
TO SHARE MY HEARTH TONIGHT.
Grace E Easley
Nice and cozy.
I feel like mole in wind on the willows in my cozy little cabin. With my kitty, a nice, warm fire and a mug of sleepy time tea I am content.
Ayyyy-MEN! I’m not even a homesteader and I love winter for all the same reasons. Same for rainy days – stop and go inside. 🙂
I don’t know if you’ve always wrote like … this but the last few blogs — I’ve read each one and they’ve been wonderful. We ranch and go and make use of long summer days (dinner at 9). I could well relate to this and also learn from it. Thank you. Keep writing.
I enjoyed your conteplative words. I too, love the quiet of winter, before the bustle of spring. It is a quiet remembering and planning time. Without it, the rest of the year would be a disorganized mess, which it may be anyway, but we are given a chance to consider what has been and what we want to yet be.
Winter is such a spectacular time of the year. I love it and as we moved south I have missed the cold. The real cold that brings snow, bundling up to go out, spending extra time with coffee, tea, or cocoa. Thank you for (once again) eloquently saying what I feel.
Thank you for such a beautifully written reminder!
I agree 100%!! Winter a time to just be… quiet. To watch the miracle of snow fall, early dark to sit at dinner in warmth of low lights! Relish in the harshness of cold temps and the warmth of blankets, sweaters and family?
That was an excellent read. Put a lot into perspective. It’s what I needed. My plan today is to stay inside and let winter be winter. I’ll pick up a book with a cup of coffee and watch the birds at the feeders. Thank you for that. I’m looking so forward to it..
I absolutely love this blog post- this feeling resonates with me, too. I crave slowing down and being still; resting and just having a break from all the doing. Thank you for so beautifully putting it into words! ?
So true. I used to see winter as bad. Now I see it as a rest. It’s so freeing to enjoy the slow down.
Thank you.
Your last two emails I’ve read with tears, they just hit me right where I am now. It’s like worrying that loose tooth with your tongue; it kinda hurts but you continue on. Thank you for saying what we feel. Blessings and prayers to you and yours ?
Thank you for putting my feelings into words! This is a great way to explain the benefits of winter. I spent 11 years living in western North Dakota and am now living in Wisconsin. As I tell people, “75 and sunny” in January (or any winter month) is not good and makes me very nervous. We haven’t had that problem here – plenty of cold (single digit and negative temps) and some snow. I love winter and find it invigorating – nothing like taking a breath of really cold air or feeling the cold air on your face to let you know you are alive. However, I know these conditions are very hard on some people, especially for people with limited incomes, work outside, or do not have a home. My heart goes out to them and hope they are able to stay warm.
I appreciate this “new” perspective (to ME, anyway!). I’m going to try to slow down and appreciate what winter offers us…a time to reflect and just “be”.
Jill, I really love this blog post, and I couldn’t agree with you more. Sit by the fire and let your mind and body relax. Spring will be here soon enough, and this is your time now.
Yes! Exactly. I’m glad I’m not the only one! Enjoy your cozy fire and relaxation. 🙂
Thank-you for putting into words (so beautifully btw!) exactly how I’ve been feeling. This has been a winter of rest, thinking, candles, tea and books whenever possible.
Thank you for that! I relish the shorter days, too. Fall Back is one of my favorites! We dont get much snow where I live, but when we do it’s really nice to truly slow down with the rest of the world around me for a couple days.