The following post originally appeared Dec. 12, 2016. We rerun it today, with a tweak or two, because it expresses our appreciation of the season that lies ahead.
Winter’s skies are milky, indifferent. Its landscape monochromatic, a wash of grays and browns. Its weather harsh at times. And Lord knows the season is stingy with sunlight. The stuff of travel & tourism ad campaigns winter is not.
I woke up earlier than usual Tuesday morning and didn’t realize it until later. I was well into my morning routine before I happened to notice a clock.
6:10? Why am I awake at 6:10?
I looked out the living room window and saw why: the sky was already light, a glowing light even though sunrise was a good 45 minutes off. Even official twilight was a few minutes away. Yet it was already light out.
If ever there was a winter to get over your dislike of the cold, this is it.
Without dwelling, cold weather historically drives people indoors, and, this year, indoors is where you have a significantly greater chance of contracting the coronavirus. The advance of fall is already seeing a significant increase in the number of COVID-19 cases and deaths in North Carolina and nationwide. In response, on Tuesday North Carolina Gov. Roy Cooper dialed back the cap on indoor group gatherings to 10 people. Staying indoors is trouble, especially if you like people.
I like to think we take away something every time we hike. Something as spirit lifting as the first spring wildflower to something as simple as the quiet or a conversation with your hiking partner.
Every once in a while, though, comes a hike that will be remembered because there’s a good chance you won’t see another one like it. Sunday was one of those hikes.
Feeling SAD lately?
You know, Seasonal Affective Disorder—a depression that can set in when the days are short and the sun sets too early in the day. Once this mood-altering disorder takes hold, it can be hard to shake; it’s best to fight it off before it has a chance to make itself at home, leaving you hibernating uncomfortably.
