Watching Snow-heavy Skies

The colours of winter surprise me with how quickly they come and go in turn while the season as a whole lingers. The moment I get used to one, it has shifted again. We’ve had everything from crisp blue skies with pale white sunshine to heavy white clouds threatening snow. The entertainment of watching the skies is akin to slow TV for me – perfect for the days where everything beyond my knitting and a cup of tea is rather too much.

When I read blogs and posts across the internet, the concept of the world having shrunk feels a common theme. It resonates. It resonates so much I worry about writing about it again. It comes up in talking with family, with friends, with almost-strangers in work meetings. So much of the day is spent with screens as well that sometimes, when I’m done for the day and my partner switches on the TV, I find it’s too much.

We talk instead, or I wander off to find somewhere I can get away.

Spending time with friends in a pandemic

In the summer, I would sit beside the cat from his sometimes widow-seat perch and watch the sun move through the sky as I knitted and listened to the latest Discworld audiobook.

I’ve found the winter version to be tea and a murder mystery. I’ll curl under my vibrant, rainbow blanket with a hot water bottle and a book. Chocolate biscuits are very much non-optional. The hand-knit tea cosy with a massive pom-pom is even less optional.

Quiet with colours

These rituals (the blankets, the tea, the book) are all focused inwards. The colours I’ve ruthlessly ensured fill my house are internal. Outside, it is white skies, grey stone and the beginnings of the yellow lights turning on as the short winter day comes to an end. It’s easy to read, then pause, watching the sky turn blue-grey in between the pages of the book or before clicking the next blog post.

So much of this time is focused on coping. Some have more to cope with than others and I count my blessings. Outside, the seasons carry on and I have to hope that means we all can too.

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