Finding Joy in Winter

Reflections on the season and The Four Seasons

Dear friend,

This morning, over breakfast, my family listened to Antonio Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons as part of our composer study. Earlier in the week we’d learned that each of the 3-movement concertos is based on poetry that he wrote, inspired by each of the seasons. I found a performance on YouTube which captioned the movements with the lines of poetry. Reading these aloud elevated the music we heard, and images stirred in our minds.

What also stirred in my mind was how perfectly Vivaldi’s Winter captures the season (at least in New Hampshire).

L'Inverno (Winter)
Opus 8, No. 4, in F minor

I. Allegro non molto--
Frozen and trembling in the icy snow,
In the severe blast of the horrible wind,
As we run, we constantly stamp our feet,
And our teeth chatter in the cold.
II. Largo--
To spend happy and quiet days near the fire,
While, outside, the rain soaks hundreds.
III. Allegro--
We walk on the ice with slow steps,
And tread carefully, for fear of falling.
Symphony, If we go quickly, we slip and fall to the ground.
Again we run on the ice,
Until it cracks and opens.
We hear, from closed doors,
Sirocco, Boreas, and all the winds in battle.
This is winter, but it brings joy.

There is a dichotomy to winter. A time of rest on the homestead, gardens sleep, chores are minimal, and attention is drawn inward to cozy pursuits around a roaring fire. Meanwhile, outside, the winds howl, snow falls, and ice awaits unsuspecting victims. Sadly, modern life continues at its frenzied pace, and one must venture forth from the comfort of home into the elements. Now, our lifestyle of work-from-home and homeschool allows us to opt out of a LOT of daily travel - no school bus trips or commutes - but there are still days where I feel the frenzy. Yesterday was one of them. I had to drop our kitten off for The Procedure, then trek 45 minutes to my daughter’s annual appointment. Naturally, with so much driving ahead of me, we woke to snow falling. We bundled up, I threw some ice grippers on my boots to stay upright, and out into the giant flakes we went. As we went about our missions, the snow turned to a cold rain, and the ice turned to slush. Getting young children in and out of cars is a time-consuming process on the average day, but it becomes quite miserable when cold rain is dripping off the van roof down your neck, and you’re kneeling in the puddle left by a tiny boot, patiently waiting for your newly minted threenager to “buckle myself”. Oh how I longed to be spending a “happy and quiet day near the fire” rather than be one of the hundreds soaked by the rain.

As I sat back behind the wheel, steeling myself for the drive home, I decided to change course. I pulled in to the parking lot of a nearby diner. We hustled inside, my daughter managing to find every slush puddle on the way, and settled into a booth. The baby contented herself with a toy, my threenager happily ordered milk and made herself busy with some crayons, and I pulled out my knitting and wrapped my hands around the steaming cup of coffee the waitress had brought.

Yes, this is winter, but it does, in fact, bring joy.

Much love,

Briana