Twenty ways to enjoy winter
Marking the fifth birthday of ‘Wintering’
On Saturday 18 October I will be running two hour-long Rise and Shine online sessions for full subscribers to The Clearing, to offer a space of calmness before the No Kings protests in the US. Those who aren’t in the US are also welcome to join. The sessions will be at noon and 3pm UK time, and I will put the joining details in a separate post.
Things are looking decidedly gloomy around here this week. The mornings are so dark that it seems absurd to get out of bed, and the evenings feel decidedly chilly. There has been talk of putting the heating on, although I have resisted so far. I’m calling it: winter is coming.
I know that this is a season of despair for many - a sense of desolation sets in as the light and heat recede. Or maybe, like me, you’re just in need of something to cheer you up a little. Either way, here are some great ways to feel your way into the dark season - not just to grin and bear it, but to love it.
Soup season is here. This is never a bad thing. Tins of brick-red Heinz tomato: yes. Elegant broths with kale and beans: absolutely. ALL THE SOUPS, please. I recently bought these lion ramen bowls and they are now the only thing I’ll eat out of. Plates are so last season. (Relatedly: does anyone have this monastic soup recipe book? It looks great.)
Adjust your light levels. You cannot blast away the afternoon gloom with bright electric light - it just makes everything look seedy. Instead, work with the perpetual twilight, making it twinkle with candles and lamps. I love Winterfold scented candles, which have names such as Quietude, First Frost, Darkling Sky, Hibernation and, yes, Wintering. But simple pillar candles are more than adequate.
Go on a mushroom walk. Foragers are reporting one of the best years in memory for edible mushrooms, but you don’t have to pick them to enjoy them. The woods are currently full of bright red fly agarics and russulas, golden sulphur tufts, and flourishes of white oyster mushrooms on dead logs. They offer a real visual thrill, and the fascination only deepens when you start to learn their names. If you can, consider joining a course near you - years of autumn joy guaranteed.
Perform a knitwear inventory. Sweater weather does not necessarily require a trip to the shops: at this time of year, I like to take stock of what I have already, running it all through the wash to get rid of the stale smell, and sewing up any little holes. At the same time, I regularly search Vinted for cashmere - it’s amazing what you can find on there.
Lean in to Halloween. Thanks to my son, I am now a full convert to spooky season. Yes, it’s tacky. But it’s also a time of pure, childish glee. Surrender! I’m currently planning this year’s Halloween food-with-faces extravaganza, and hanging my East End Press Bat Bunting.
But plan for All Souls’ Day too. This traditional moment in the Christian calendar is set aside for remembering our departed friends and family, and I firmly believe we should bring it back. It’s a day for visiting graves or favoured old locations or lighting a votive candle in remembrance. But it’s also a good day to let grieving friends know you remember them. Traditionally, people would hand out soul cakes, but they are an acquired taste - try muffins instead.
Journaling. Don’t get in your head about the beautiful journals you see on Instagram. A favourite pen, your thoughts and a sense of privacy are quite enough. I strongly believe that fancy notebooks are the enemy of good journaling - see my guide to keeping a notebook for more details.
Socks are one of life’s small luxuries. Over the past few years, I’ve started to invest in good-quality socks - a couple of new pairs a year. They last and last, and I can repair any holes. I love Arbon for real woollen socks or the Japanese brand RoToTo, which last and last and last.
Curl up with a wintery memoir. It will help you to feel your way into the season - and the best books capture the pain as well as the pleasure. You already know I love A Woman in the Polar Night, but have you also read Nina Maclaughlin’s Winter Solstice, Gretel Ehrlich’s This Cold Heaven, Tété-Michel Kpomassie’s Michel The Great, Joanna Kavenna’s The Ice Museum, or Basho’s The Narrow Road to the Deep North?
Attend a festival of light. I know it’s hard to truly want to venture outside at this time of year, but it helps to be part of a crowd. Wrap up warm and get out for Divali, bonfire night or a lantern parade. It will remind you that dark nights can still be a friendly place.
Stay hydrated. Sorry, wait, hot chocolate counts, right? I am a lover of proper cocoa made from scratch, but the rest of my household are Velvetiser converts, and I am partial to the occasional mug of Knoops or Maya as a special treat. I also use mine to make a turmeric latte, with 1 tsp turmeric, 1 tsp coconut oil, 1 tsp honey, a grind of black pepper and a cup of oat milk. Not sure if I like the taste or the bright yellow colour, but either way it makes me happy.
Take part in Dusking. Every year, artist Lucy Wright dances down the sun to mirror the May Day festivities. It’s an invented tradition that invites solo participants - check out her website to see how you can join her.
Watch Song of the Sea. If you haven’t seen this gorgeous Irish animation, you’re in for an utter treat.
Stock up your cupboards. There is something very reassuring in seeing full shelves as you approach the cold season. Personally, I love to make pickles and preserves at this time of year, and I’ll be baking my Christmas cake on stir-up Sunday, 23rd November. But you could equally interpret this as an invitation to fill your shelves with food that makes easy meals for the days when any effort is too much. There is comfort in knowing you can survive on your supplies for a week or two.
Spend some time with a tree. The process of leaf-fall is poignant and beautiful, and it’s also very easy to let it pass you by. Pick a nearby tree and check in with it day by day, noticing the way the colours change and the transition to bare branches. It always seems to happen slowly and then all at once.
Plan for the Winter solstice. Every year, when I write about my own solstice ritual (nothing more than a simple fire and some drinks with friends), I get lots of messages to say ‘Oh, I missed it! Next year!’ Well, here’s your early alert: get the date in your diary, and decide how you’d like to mark it. This year, it falls on 21st December. You have plenty of time.
Two words: Baked Alaska. Surely the perfect transitional dessert, combining hot meringue and cold ice-cream. Take this as a sign.
Make something. This is such an excellent time of year for crafts. Space is limited in my house, so I favour the kind of project that I can work on my knees while watching TV or listening to a podcast: knitting scarves, sashiko stitching, or crocheting granny squares. (Full disclosure: I never finish anything.) I also quite like drawing at this time of year. I recently bought myself a pile of blank postcards and I paint stripes of ink or watercolour on them, or draw on them in thick black pen. No pressure, all process.
Christmas prepping. It’s time to catch up with your mother on this: start as early as possible, and enjoy it. Buy up the gorgeous wrapping paper in increments. Start planning a colour scheme for your tree. Let yourself be pulled towards the lovely bits of the season, and refuse to get involved in the stress. I’ve been stashing away stocking fillers since August, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
Grownups are allowed advent calendars too. This year, I’m trying to choose between the St Eval tealight calendar, the Bookstore Bibliophile’s calendar, and the Diamine Inkvent calendar. Anything to manage those long December mornings.
A lot of people are already telling me that they’re starting their annual re-read of Wintering, and who am I to stand in your way? It is five years old this winter, and is now available in this beautiful new gift edition in the UK, or the iconic US hardback. Ask your local indie bookshop for a copy, or find order links here.
Do you have a suggestion for making the winter months more joyful? Please share them in the chat!
If you think a friend or loved one would enjoy The Clearing by Katherine May, gift subscriptions are available here | Website | Buy: Enchantment UK /US | Buy: Wintering UK / US | Buy: The Electricity of Every Living Thing UK / US | Join: The Way Through Winter course
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Plant spring bulbs. Getting hands into the soil reminds us of nature's need to die back and replenish. Plus it's a chance to squirrel away hope for spring, and a gift to your future self.
Dear Ms Katherine,
No need to respond I just got “carried away” here….
Wintering Thoughts in the middle of the dark night…
1. Yes, indeed. Soup season has begun in the woods of Southern Oregon. I made split pea soup in a giant soup pot. I felt so righteous as I lined up glass covered containers for future souping. I do not have The Monastery Soup Book but I have been tempted. I cobbled my pea soup recipe by looking at several books and then did my own version.
A book you might like: “Winter Harvest Cookbook: How to select and prepare fresh seasonal produce all winter long” by Lane Morgan; Published by New Society Publishers. It is not a new book so inexpensive copies are available on AbeBooks.com or Thriftbooks.com. Addictive websites for bibliomaniacs.
From her Introduction:
“For one thing, I have more patience for cooking in winter period since I can't garden in the dark, I might as well be inside. For another, food seems more important than. We want to gather our friends at the table and keep the gloom away. I feel victorious when I come back from the muddy garden, clutching a bunch of leeks and charred, ready for adventure.”
2. Candles – every morning int the pre-dawn darkness I light candles. Tall ones, short ones, tiny votives. Sometimes beautiful ones… On the way to Crater Lake National Park, in Eagle Point, Oregon, there is the Wild Bee Honey Farm. I stock up on honey and candles. In a little red barn you go in and buy what you want and leave money in a jar or now there are electronic options, too. The smell of the honey and beeswax candles = delights!
3. I live down a dirt road in the woods so I’m always looking down and searching for mushrooms.
4. Sweaters + Tea= tools for autumn.
5. Halloween is tacky but yes, such FUN! Enjoy it especially, with your son, while he is still thrilled with it. I want to order East End Press Bat Bunting! Umm throughout my teaching career I worked at the Oregon Caves National Monument as a Ranger. Yes, that required being dressed up like Smokey the Bear, big hat n’all. I led tours through the caves for school kids. I learned a lot about bats. They are fascinating!
6. I celebrate All Souls’ Day. Based on the Mexican tradition of an ofrenda (altar) I create one every year with candles, photos, marigolds, etc. When I taught Elementary School, we celebrated this with children every year. From pets to grandparents, we celebrated “El Dia de los Muertos”. I googled “Soul Cakes” going to bake some soon.
7. YES! Fancy expensive journals are intimidating. A leather journal with handmade pages “freezes” my brain. I use cheap Composition Notebooks; the kind kids have been using for over 100 years. Every summer the big office supply stores sell the for 50cents at the “Back to school” summer sales. Ordinarily $2. I buy a boxload, enough for a year or so. Now they come in colors too. I am then freed up to blather on and write drivel w/o the guilt that I feel if I were to use those exquisite journals people keep gifting me.
8. Socks yes but I would add big slippers to accommodate winter socks. I love suede and sheepskins ones from Sorel… COZY inside but with soles that I can walk outside a bit, too. -
9.- 20. YES! YES! YES! to all of these … ran out of time here.
No need for you to comment. I just carried away with myself here in the middle of the night! Plan to pick up Wintering again and finish the course I did not quite finish last winter!
Thank you for your beautiful, inspirational writing. Continued best wishes for your husband’s continued healing on his “medical adventure".
& Thanks for acknowledging NO KINGS DAY! A huge deal here in the USA. I used to be very judgmental about the Hitler/Nazi era in Germany and now these times are terrifying, and I see how government manipulates the people!
Following Ms Jane Goodall's good advice: "What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of a difference you want to make."
Best regards,
Deborah Colette Murphy from down a dirt road in the woods of Southern Oregon...