Of The Winter High Quality — Start

The start of winter is not an ending. It is a reset. It is nature’s great pause button—a long, dark night of the soul that, if we are wise, we do not fight, but embrace. We light a candle against the gloom. We pull our coats tighter. We exhale, watching our breath turn to visible smoke in the air, and we whisper to the coming cold: I am ready.

And yet, there is a peculiar peace in this beginning. Winter starts with a closing of the door. It is an invitation to turn inward. The world outside becomes hostile, so we build a smaller, warmer world inside. We read thicker books. We drink darker coffee. We sleep longer. start of the winter

Meteorologists will tell you winter begins on the solstice, the shortest day of the year. But those who live close to the earth know better. Winter starts in the margins: in the first frost that turns the pumpkin vines to black lace, or in the moment the sunset shifts from a lingering gold to a hurried violet that vanishes by five o’clock. The start of winter is not an ending