Category: In Nature

Winter is a Season to Cherish

Winter is a season to cherish, especially in the winter of your life.

This view from my desk was on January 11, 2025. I was still recovering from the flu and had no intention of dealing with the snow on my front steps. However, the stillness and purity of the white blanket across this scene gave me a sense of calmness that carried over into one of the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had.

We had warmer temperatures over the next few days, and the icy mess from this snow melted. I felt better each day and eventually dealt with the last remnants before the next snow arrived late last Sunday.

Snow Removal Joy

Then, the temperatures plummeted as the evening progressed. By Monday, the morning low was 13 F, and the high was 24 F. I prepared to remove the 2 inches of snow as soon as I awoke. This airy and light snow made a standard broom my best snow removal tool.

layering keeps me warmHere’s the layering I used over leggings and a cotton turtleneck during my outdoor winter chores.

My fingertips got a bit cold, but the rest of my body was fine as I swept off the front steps and a portion of the back deck. The blue gloves are the most unusual items in this assortment of banishers for winter’s cold. Here’s how they came into my life.

When I worked for the Denver Department of Environmental Health, I watered the plants of one of the scientists, Cindy B., while she was on vacation. She gave those gloves to me in thanks. They are called Foxgloves, and the tag said they were for gardening. That seemed ill-advised, and I never used them in the garden. However, I realized they were perfect as an added layer of insulation inside gloves when I shoveled snow off the sidewalks in front of my Littleton, CO, home before walking to the bus that took me to downtown Denver.

I think of Cindy with a smile every time I pull the Foxgloves over my hands, realizing winter is a season to cherish.

The Seasons of My Life

I am still excited to clear snow off surfaces like my front steps and back deck. In the spring of my life, as a child in Central Florida, I dreamed of experiencing the change of the seasons. I was in my mid-20s when I first saw snow on a skiing trip to Killington, VT.

I spent my summer years in Florida, which always seemed to be summer. We did have a break from the heat with annual visits to Downeast Maine. During my autumn years, I first experienced all the nuances of seasonal change when I lived and worked in Colorado.

Shortly after my retirement, I moved back to Florida for five years before the mountains lured me northward again.

Now, I embrace each day in the winter of my life, enjoying the goldfinches and juncos that visit my native meadows for winter seeds. Various birds find sustenance in the seed, fruit, and suet at the feeders, and a bird bath is warmed to keep the ice away.

As the winter’s hold loosens, Spring plants will begin to emerge. Although I love my native plant gardens, I also love spring bulbs. In my garden, there is room for plants that originated in different places, just as there is room in my life for people who chose to stay where they were born or who left to experience new places to live and thrive.

Nature Heals and Enriches

My need to be one with nature has brought me spiritual healing from grief, physical well-being, and joy as I delight in all the plants, animals, and people God has brought into my life.

I look forward to my next phase of life enriched with clarity, deeper truth, and purity as I release what feels heavy in my soul to embrace the wisdom and light of this sacred season of life.

Look Back or Gaze Forward

Is it better to look back or gaze forward? Which path will bring you to the pinnacle of your life purpose?

Look Back with Wisdom

In my life, I looked back with self-judgment and loathing, never understanding the concept of:

  • Taking a bird’s eye view
  • Determining the errors
  • Understanding the why
  • Imagining alternative behaviors
  • Embracing love and compassion

This simple plan of reviewing with acceptance is the essence of learning from our past choices.

Here is an example from my life.

  • My marriage ended in divorce.
  • The relationship was based on looking for a self-love substitute.
  • Why did I engage in self-destructive behavior?
  • If I knew then what I know now.
  • My choices were necessary for me.

Of course, this is a significant life event. Yet the simplicity of this process breaks it down into digestible bites, releasing the nutrients within.

When I understood the complexity and depth of my suffering, it was much easier to give myself a break. So it’s easier to give others a break, which results in a kinder existence for everyone.

What was the timeline for this example?

a more direct pathThe marriage lasted twenty-three years. Since I didn’t engage in looking back with wisdom, I repeated my behaviors over another twenty-four years. Over the last year, several aha moments resulted in true love and compassion for myself. That’s a total of forty-eight years.

My hope for you is a more direct path toward self-understanding.

Yet, I’ve smiled through it all. The difference today is my smile is filled with joy rather than merely a lifelong coping mechanism.

Gaze Forward with Hope

Before, I used lists and control to examine the past year.

In contrast, my previous twelve months were spent feeling rather than analyzing, which resulted in a culmination of healing that needs no examination. Furthermore, the lists for the coming year also come from feelings.

First, I made a short list of when I feel joy; being in nature, creating, learning, and sharing.

Second, I allowed ideas to flow. These became the core of my New Year plan.

  • I love my body with exercise and nutritious foods
  • Write from my heart
  • Take a chance on painting again
  • Explore my local community
  • Contemplate a physical gift for the world

Third, the first action steps emerged.

The Best Part is

Rather than a list of must-do projects, I have broad ideas that can morph into festive activities by checking in through a daily morning meditative practice.

It’s not about whether it is better to look back or gaze forward. Instead, it’s about exploring within to find your joyful uniqueness. This is the basis for a happy life.

With love and compassion,
Dawn

The Fear of Success

The fear of success is an authentic human experience. Yet, the emotion seemed to have no source when I was crying with my morning coffee.

The Fear of Success

What brought on this sudden tearful episode? Then I had one of those aha moments when the ray of sunlight shines through. I had recently experienced an example of success and conquered the fear.

Was it a Walk or a Hike?

The weekend before, I joined the Blue Ridge Chapter of the North Carolina Native Plant Society for a hike. This event allowed me to get out and meet like-minded people, surround myself with nature, and exercise.

In my mind, it wasn’t clear whether I could complete this opportunity. There were a lot of unknowns. For example, how long is the hike? What is the difficulty?

Even so, I was excited to give it a try.

Was Nature Testing Me?

Waze showed it would take me about thirty-five minutes to drive to the Bluff Lodge parking lot in Doughton Park, where the hike began at 11 am.

As I’m ready to step into the shower, I see two young wild turkeys in a panic, caught inside my backyard fence. Mama turkey and two siblings are encouraging them from their freedom of the pasture.

The decision was clear; take my shower and deal with the turkeys afterward.

With focused determination, I completed my grooming, put on my clothes, and assessed the situation by the back door. My bird dog, Sugar, was on high alert. How could I open the fence gate and shoo the turkeys toward it while keeping Sugar at bay?

As soon as I opened the door, the young turkeys flew toward freedom over the fence. So all the worry before was wasted energy. And I was still on schedule to make it to the hike on time.

The Meadow Stroll

Our leader, Annkatrin, had structured the day with two opportunities. The first part was a stroll through a large meadow filled with blossoms, tall purple spikes of Liatris, yellow Coreopsis billowing below, and occasional milkweed in bloom.

Although I felt gratitude for this hour, I wanted more. So, talking with Annkatrin and looking at the map of the longer hike, I decided to try it. Three of us drove to the parking lot at the end of this extended portion, and a fourth followed to bring us back to the meadow. The drive back to the field was the perfect opportunity to tell the funny turkey story. We all enjoyed a good laugh.

The First Section

With my hiking boots strapped on, my walking poles in hand, and a day pack with water, I was enthusiastically ready to start.

hairy alumroot, Allegheny stonecrop, and reindeer lichen

Our route took us down a path toward the road, Annkatrin pointing out a few flowers in the shadows. As we trekked along the shoulder of The Blue Ridge Parkway, the variety of native plants exploded up the embankment. In this photo, there were three unusual finds; Hairy alumroot, Allegheny stonecrop, and reindeer lichen.

Traffic was light as we quickly crossed toward the Visitor Center. Luckily, the line for the portable toilets was short, and we soon observed another meadow. This time it was in a raised bed next to the parking lot by the park restaurant.

Annkatrin remarked, “I could spend hours here on the varieties of lichen alone.”

As we left the parking lot, another meadow of milkweed emerged. There wemale monarch on milkweed saw the only Monarch butterfly. We poised our phones and snapped photos and videos while he sipped nectar hungrily as he walked the flower clusters.

“We know it’s a male. He has white spots along the hind wings. Let’s hope he finds lots of eggs to fertilize. Since Monarchs are territorial, he’s staked out this entire area to defend.”

The Middle section

Halfway through the hike, two people turned around. So our original group of eighteen during the meadow stroll was reduced to eight. At that point, I felt good. There was a fantastic vista of the mountains with meadow flowers surrounding us.

The Final Miles

As we left the meadow with the incredible vista, I saw the trail meander up and down an area of tall grass before disappearing into the pine forest.

“The difficult section is coming up,” I thought.

It still was never as difficult as I feared it could be. The rain forecast had held off, mud was nonexistent, and we were in the shade. However, the hour was growing late. It was 3 pm, and we still had a quarter of the hike left. I had forgotten the opportunities to sit and rest might not show up. And I had been standing or walking for four hours, except for the short ride back and forth to the parking lot at the hike terminus. Three of the hikers in the front opted to press on, leaving Annkatrin, another couple, a young man, and myself at a slower pace. In the past, I would have berated myself for apparently holding up the hike. Annkatrin understood the consensus.Carolina lily

“We’ve seen a lot of flowers today. But, unfortunately, it’s put us a little behind schedule.”

Annkatrin’s words and this beautiful Carolina Lily gave me the strength to know I could still do this.

The Conclusion

Annkatrin and I emerged from the forest and joined the remaining three participants, who rested on the stone walls or foraged blackberries. First, I stretched my hamstrings and quadriceps after taking a long drink of water. Then, I stored everyone’s backpacks and my walking poles in the back of my Subaru while Annkatrin took the opportunity to continue her walk in nature.

After dropping Will, the youngest hiker, at the Visitor Center parking lot, I continued onto the Bluff Lodge parking. Bob, Catherine, and I talked about the hike and the native plant organization for a few minutes.

I felt it was time I voiced my disappointment in keeping up with the pace. It wasn’t a rant. Instead, it was a compassionate relation to the situation.

Then Catherine said, “Currently, we don’t offer less strenuous opportunities for our field trips. So perhaps it’s time we did.”

Her statement filled my heart with gratitude. Any kernel of guilt I felt dissolved. My difficulty opened new opportunities for myself and others. In the end, the fear of success and the sore muscles were minor considerations.