Welcoming Winter

This week, Christmas week, is supposed to be a cold one. So—winter is here. I am one of those hot-natured people who look forward to winter, when I don’t have to drive in ice or work outside for long periods. I adore the coziness of soups simmering on the stove, bread and cookies baking in the oven, and woolen throws draped on chairs awaiting chilly knees to warm. I know. I have a romanticized view of winter that can, at times, dissolve into some dismal realities. But I allow myself these fantasies, these occasional realities. I give myself permission to dream of winter.

One of the most romantic images that remains snuggly ensconced in my brain is an actual, beautiful winter night my husband and I experienced in England years ago. All that day, large downy flakes gathered on our hibernating rose buses, hedges, and grass in the front garden. All day snow collected on the roofs of houses along the winding neighborhood road I looked out on through our lounge’s (living room) bay window. By nightfall, the whole area had become a proverbial winter wonderland, white down on every surface.

Out into that night, my husband and I walked to a nearby wood. We wandered among the trees without benefit of flashlight (or torch). Soft light spun throughout the wood, refracting from the snow that blanketed the ground, draped the trees, and continued to drift slowly downward from the sky. To say it was magical would be a gross understatement.

Sadly, and likely fortunately, we are not forecast snow this week, but I want to share anyway, in honor of winter, my favorite “snow poem.” At least, it is my favorite that is in the public domain. I read it every winter and think of that snowy, evening walk in wonderland.

Velvet Shoes
    by Elinor Wylie

Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet and slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.

I shall go shod in silk,
And you in wool,
White as white cow's milk,
More beautiful
Than the breast of a gull.

We shall walk through the still town
In a windless peace;
We shall step upon white down,
Upon silver fleece,
Upon softer than these.

We shall walk in velvet shoes:
Wherever we go
Silence will fall like dews
On white silence below.
We shall walk in the snow.