I hate winter. Always have, always will.
The grey skies from dusk till dawn on most days. The streets, full of desolation, wind going through bare trees and walking on murky snow trying to avoid the yellow patches.
I spend the whole year apprehending it. Then once it’s here, I wish time would speed up so I can see spring again.
Who’s with me? (Besides everyone from the Northern Hemisphere)
If you’re not familiar with Montreal winters (lucky you), they last 5 to 6 months.
In other words, I have to look at pitiful naked tree branches for half the year and I only see green grass in my dreams.
I’ve been feeling sorry for myself these past few weeks, I’ll admit.
Not that it’s even particularly cold yet, but walking in the middle of bare grayness every day got to me.
That is until I came across “the magic bush”.
Now, I didn’t find it myself. I have to give credit to a four year old.
If you have children, you know how it goes. Walking down a street can’t ever be just that. Going anywhere is never about getting from point A to point B. There’s dogs to stop for on the way. There’s Christmas lights to look at. Squirrels to feed.
Magic Bushes to touch.
So we were passing by this patch of trees and desolate nature when suddenly she froze.
She was holding a branch in her little hand. She stood motionless.
Apparently that bush turns anyone that touches it into a statue. You have been warned.
I walked by many times without knowing its power. The truth is I never really noticed it at all.
I breathed in the fresh hair and took a good look at it for the first time. The branches completely devoid of leaves, the sharpness of them. I saw all the trees with their delicate arms reaching for the white sky above and how it all connected in the stillness of her.
Every season teaches us something and I failed to see winter’s lesson until now.
The rhythm of our lives is tied to the ebb and flow of nature around us. Winter is about hibernation, that we all know.
I discovered this week that it’s about stillness too. It’s a time to stop and take in everything around us. While everything is sleeping outside, we can be awake and contemplate what that actually means.