Bleak

Generally speaking, this is not my favorite time of year. I think of November and early December and I think of increasing darkness, lack of color, and unpleasant cold without any snow to make the landscape sparkle. It is the season of transition, the white space between paragraphs, the bleak period of time after the last of the leaves has dropped from the trees, but before the first snowfall, when everything just looks dead. Add to the dying landscape the fact that I am no longer able to ride my bakfiets with any regularity (my winter solution is no longer actually a solution, according to the kids, but I have a new idea in the works), and my appreciation for the natural world has definitely taken a big nosedive.

Feeling as I do about this time of year in regards to nature, I was surprised by all of the beauty that I noticed on our walk the other day. Our house is on the bank of the Connecticut River, and there is a dike right along the river to protect this settlement and farmland from flooding. It is a lovely place to walk.

Zeben, running on the dike

A little ways into our excursion, we came across a corn field, yet to be harvested (though I'm not sure why since the corn was well on its way to rotten). In mid-summer, the corn fields scattered throughout the area where we live are one of my most favorite things. A vision of fertile land and abundance, they make me feel alive. Normally seeing a field of brown, dry stalks would have the opposite effect on me, but, for whatever reason, coming across this field the other day gave me a burst of energy. I ran back home for the camera so that I could capture the beauty. Then the kids and I played hide-and-seek between the rows until the smell of the rotting corn got to be too much for me.

I've since been trying to convince myself to see what is beautiful in all of the death and dormancy that surrounds us at this time of year. Rather than looking at the trees and seeing only their lack of leaves (as would be typical for me), I've been attempting to appreciate this chance to view them naked. To notice the ways in which their limbs and branches twist and stretch towards the sky. I think it might be working.
As we count down the days until winter, I am reminding myself that we need this death and darkness to help us appreciate the life and light once they return. So that we will not take them for granted. And I am starting to enjoy this opportunity to work harder to see the beauty in what surrounds us. Maybe not so bleak after all.