Snow Archives - Gillian Monks

Today traditionally marks the time to remove our Christmas decorations and pack them away for another year. Some folk stripped their homes of festive finery immediately the 25th had passed. Others, like me, will be keeping some of the greenery until the seasons move on and spring shows it has truly arrived, for it has always been believed that the spirits of the natural world took shelter in the evergreenery through the ‘dead’ winter months, and that humanity brought them inside to further protect them throughout the worst of the weather. (Old folk in Lancashire traditionally cooked their Shrove Tuesday pancakes over fires made from the holly which had decorated their houses since Christmas.)

Nor will I be removing all trace of other Midwinter finery from our rooms – rather it will be adapted and evolve from the kaleidoscope of deep jewel colours of Christmas into something more appropriate for January… white lights and silver decorations to reflect the ice and snow, but also lots of candles to bring the still-much-needed light into our homes and encourage us to keep our spirits up.

But what exactly do you pack away when you remove your Christmas decorations?

It strikes me that as well as the trees and trinklements, much of the care, the kindness, the willingness to reach out to others, the inclusivity, compassion and tolerance which is traditionally given freer rein around Midwinter is also removed and vanishes with the baubles and tinsel. Why? Are we humans so fearful of being thought weak that we can only give ourselves permission to be kind and considerate when the World recognises such behaviour as part of a spiritual/religious/folk tradition?

What truly makes the Midwinter festival so special to so many? During the Covid pandemic and the resulting lockdowns and isolation, it rapidly became apparent that it was human contact – families and friends being able to gather and spend time together – which meant most to the majority. Yes, we all lead busy lives, but surely we can aim to strike a better balance between busyness and quality time with loved ones. Not just those close to you, either, but to strangers in the street – it takes us no more time to smile or make a kindly remark in passing than it does to maintain a stony countenance in silence… but it does require an awareness of what and who is around us, and a heart sufficiently open to respond to them.

Think: the smile or casual friendly word you give to the person on the street, or in the shop or cafe, might be the only human contact that that person receives today… and it might be their lifeline.

Nor need we suddenly and peremptorily cease to come together, to gather, to spend some of our leisure time in activity together – whether that is simply relaxing with a warming drink while we chat, or playing games, or any other activity which we can indulge in within our domestic domain.

Or you may wish to spend some precious time planning the coming months: seeds and plants for your garden, places you might visit, or events you might take part in later in the year, or holidays you might take. We are still in the darkest time of the year which is good for resting… and dreaming.

When most of us dwelled in rural agrarian communities – and especially in the Celtic lands – feasting and communal enjoyment regularly went on until the end of January while the winter weather did its worst and little could be accomplished out-of-doors. Reading, games, storytelling, acting and verbal competitions were regularly used to entertain those gathered around the only source of heat and light – the fire pile high upon the central hearth.

It is pointless fretting over the dark evenings, the bad weather, the fact that ‘merry Christmas’ has passed. Enjoy today, especially as currently, parts of the country are at a standstill due to ice and snow. Yes, many were planning on returning to work, college and school today. Yes, at some point we will all have to catch up and it might mean extra work for a day or two. But look out of your windows.

Banish those January blues! Go out and breath in the crisp, clear air. Have a snowball fight. Whip up a sweat and get some exercise by shovelling your path or drive clear, and perhaps make a snowman or two in the process! Understand that these are suggestions for the adults. Where are the children? Nothing like playing in snow for healthy exercise, invigorating the appetite or inducing peaceful sleep. Many of us have been given a whole day in which to cleanse and make ourselves healthy. What a gift!

And when darkness begins to fall later this afternoon, don’t simply withdraw into your self-imposed shells. Switch off your appliances and get out the playing cards or a board game. Invite a neighbour in to join you for a glass of wine or a pot of tea. In so doing you will rediscover the true essence of what we were treasuring in our Christmas celebration.

It isn’t really Christmas that we celebrate – we are celebrating life – and each other – and that is to be enjoyed and made the very most of every day of the year!

I love the snow! Still a child at heart, I rejoice in watching the whirling flakes of ice, in observing the ordinary green world as it turns white and vanishes, in seeing the frosted mountains, in smelling, tasting, touching this winter phenomenon.

Unfortunately, with the vagaries of our temperamental British weather, further complicated by climate change, we do not often get snow here in the far north-western corner of Wales. I miss it. Some winters I end up positively yearning for it and feel out of step… out of kilter… with the rest of the natural world for lack of it.

Even in a relatively cold winter, such as the one we have just experienced, when many other areas of the U.K. have been regularly blanketed under several feet of snow, the closest we have got to it has been on the mountain tops while down here in the valley, we have had to content ourselves with a mere dusting of frost.

Contrary to my usual wishes, when snow was forecast earlier last week, I only felt concern for the wildlife which is already in the full throes of nesting, budding and blossoming, and disappointment that it couldn’t have come earlier in the year,

Then, last Friday morning, I awoke to the vision of thick snow covering gardens, trees, fields… the whole valley! A blizzard of huge snowflakes danced past my window; the mountains across the valley were totally obscured and the sky was heavy with more snow to come. I sat with my hands wrapped around a scalding cup of tea, entranced at the magical wonderland being created before my very eyes!

As I watched, I became aware that the snow had a true individual presence, a life of its own – a thick layer of seasonal energy, a thronging of tiny, icy winter elemental beings (one for each snowflake, at least), which had come to bless and bestow upon the land the final kiss of winter, and all the benefits which a cold snap can bring. the snow lay, a living coverlet of natural energy, a rightful presence in partnership and harmony with the land.

Presently, the snow stopped, the clouds cleared and the sun came out, as did the village children, shouting and laughing and calling to each other as they slipped, slithered, tobogganed, snowballed and built snow people in the field opposite my home. Many delightful memories flooded my mind as I sat, a grinning spectator to all their innocent fun.

With the sun, the temperature rose and the world began to steadily drip. Jewel droplets glittered from every branch and surface. My husband rushed out to clear patches of ground in the snow so that bird seed could be scattered, while fat balls danced from the fruit trees and bowls of ice were replaced with fresh water.

As the snow gradually melted away and the green and golden daffodils and primroses re-emerged, I realised that the land looked different – cleaner, refreshed, revitalised, more vibrant. The snow had gone but the elemental life which had arrived with it had transmuted into something different and was still very much present.

Just a reminder that we cannot always see or understand the need for certain events in our life, but there is always a good reason for them.