By: Ally Perez
As a person who feels deeply, winter is oftentimes a struggle for me. In the spring and summer, I feel recharged by the sun, supple from the heat. However, the consistent clouds and sharp winter chill of December, January, and February make me feel closed in and empty. Though living through the winter is not the most pleasant experience for me, there are still lessons to be learned and pockets of joy sprinkled throughout this season. We just have to look closely.
Over the past year, I have paid close attention to the seasons and what they represent. To me, the whole year represents a life cycle. Spring is birth and childhood, summer is adolescence, autumn is adulthood, and winter is the quiet end of life. Paying attention to the plants, the amount of sunlight, and the way my mind and body feel throughout each season bring me back to my connection with the earth. After all, although mankind has a troubled relationship with the earth, we as humans are still part of nature, and we can still foster healing with our roots.
On my darkest winter days, I remind myself that this is the time for going inside, looking at the darkness within me that may be difficult to face. It is the time to acknowledge the death and shedding of parts of myself and my life that no longer serve me.
The day that I write these words, February 2nd, is a Celtic holiday called Imbolc. This day marks the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Because “Imbolc” translates to “in the womb” I like to think that it also marks the transition from the end of death to the beginning of the rebirth cycle.
The following is a compilation of videos I have taken over the past few weeks of pockets of life that I have found on my walks or my backyard. They serve as reminders that sun and warmth await us. And they also remind us to exist in the present moment, as there is still beauty in darkness.
Overlapping the video is a voiceover of myself reading parts of a poem named “Imbolc” by Maeanna Welti. I hope you enjoy the sweet words as well as my chickens chirping in the background.