Hibernal Journal: #3 - Week 2

It's what you can't see that truly gives you vision.

Sunday, 12/29/2024:

Sunrise was at 7:17 a.m., the skies were completely obscured by a dense and heavy fog, the air was still, and the temperature was 34°. The sunset will occur at 4:19.

It was quite an interesting weather day; there was so much moisture in the air that it felt like me and Alice were sitting in a 40° sauna. It was supposed to rain, according to the forecast, but all of the moisture on the ground and the streets and sidewalks seemed to be more the result of the cloud cover leaking water droplets. The two of us went out on the porch a number of times, across the span of several hours, but the ground was too soggy to hang out with Bruce... I simply wasn't feeling the whole mud tracking through the house mess had we decided to go that route. A casual Observer might suggest that Mother Nature was in a foul mood. Still, we decided to take the high road and imagine she was in a perfectly fine mood and chose the"kinder, gentler"method to moisturize the winter-hardy perennials as well as softening up the soil for the birds and the mammals still bold enough to forage while the opportunity had presented itself.

Observation of the day: Mood swings, and emotional roller coaster rides, are not the products of humankind rather they are the result of what got us here.

Monday, 12/30/2024:

Sunrise was at 7:18 a.m., under a steady rain with no breeze, and the temperature was 47°. The sunset will occur at 4:20.

Beyond the steps of the front porch, a steady rain is a deal breaker for any serious amount of outdoor activity. Me and Alice decided (especially because Emma was still at home on Christmas break with her nights and weekends family) that it was a perfectly good day to do some overdue house cleaning and a few interior design changes. We got quite a bit more accomplished than I had originally expected. After a late (and glorious) nap, we were able to sit together on the porch and share a sunset under partly cloudy skies with a light enough breeze that Mother Nature could sing to us through the wind chimes as we basked in the glow of an incredibly atypical warm temperature hovering beautifully around 55°.

Observation of the day: The secret to a loving relationship with Nature lies not in what you prepare yourself to expect from her; rather, it can be found in all the things she gives you that you are so sure she'd never do.

Tuesday, 12/31/2024:

Sunrise was at 7:17 a.m., the skies were clear, there was a gentle breeze, and the temperature was 34°. The sunset will occur at 4:20.

Emma joined us today, which me and Alice had not planned for, but with temperatures expected to be in the 40s, with lots of sun, we just rolled with it and spent the last day of 2024 doing what we always do: A whole lot of everything and nothing; they played, I wrote. At roughly mid-morning, we had another surprise when my son, his girl, and their two kids came to visit for a couple of hours, giving Alice and Emma some playtime (and human chew toys other than yours truly) to burn off a little energy. The humans took me to lunch, and we left the girls behind... Taking two 100 lb puppies to an eat in restaurant isn't allowed in most places, although for the life of me I can't imagine why. They brought me back home in time for me and the girls to stay mostly on schedule with our daily nap routine, and when we got up I took them out to the veranda so they could terrorize and torture each other under Bruce's ever-watchful eye until sunset, after which Emma got picked up and taken home.

Observation of the day: The best part about nature, winter in particular, is that you can run and hide from her, blaming your absence from her on any number of human excuses all you want, but no matter where you go, she's still right there waiting for you.

Wednesday, 01/01/2025:

Sunrise was at 7:17 a.m., under a steady rain, with a light breeze, and the temperature was 42°. The sunset will occur at 4:22.

Being the first day of a new year, and the forecast promising another rainy day, Alice and I enjoyed a gloriously peaceful and quiet start to the new year on the porch over coffee, with the only sound being the wind chimes, the steady beat of raindrops on the metal tub next to us on the ground, and my voice; there were no cars, no sirens, no helicopters flying overhead, and it felt a little like we were the only living creatures on the planet. The weather promised us another indoor activity day that we filled with more cleaning, rearranging, and organizing our shared living space. We took an amazing nap... The two of us curled up together on Beatrice with Georgie in tow, and did what all self-respecting Hermits would do on a day like this- only what we wanted to, and only for as long as it took to finish without breaking a sweat.

Observation of the day: Jammies, slippers, grilled cheese sandwiches, and tomato soup are, I'm as sure as I can be, the four best things about being alive.

Thursday, 01/02/2025:

Sunrise was at 7:18 a.m., under a mix of clouds and sun, air temperature was in the low 30s, with a wind advisory promising gusts up to 30 mph. Sunset will occur at 4:23.

It was not only ridiculously cold (because it was so windy I almost got blown over quite a few times), it was also Bank day which required my having to go out and mingle with Humanity. I left the house in a decent enough mood, albeit put out by the combination of cold air and incredibly strong winds, but I am more than sufficiently equipped with the necessary attire to contend with these conditions. I made it through the bank part of the trip without difficulty, enjoyed a meal in solitude in a quiet corner of my favorite coffee shop, and grabbed a few items at the local grocery store before making it back home relatively unscathed and just in time to cuddle up with the girls for the midday nap. When we woke up, I saw that my computer screen was dark and, assuming there had been a power glitch because of the wind, I didn't bother sitting down to restart the system until after sunset when Emma went home. Much to my dismay I discovered that my monitor had not just turned itself off, it had finally taken its final Swan dive off this Mortal coil and left behind a panicked half-blind hermit frantically scrambling to figure out how in the bloody hell I was going to continue my efforts on this hibernal journal Journey I have just barely started putting together. I ultimately figured out how to proceed and get back on track, but decided getting into bed on time was more important (it was cold in this drafty old house and I wanted to get under the blankies) so I will pick up the story in the morning.

Observation of the day: Bad days come to us all; before we begin a temper tantrum, throwing things against the wall and stomping our feet like 2-year-olds, the wisest among us understand thatit is important to look around and make sure no one sees you doing it.

Friday, 01/03/2025:

Sunrise was at 7:17 a.m., under partly cloudy skies, with moderate winds and air temperatures at 24°, making it feel like 10°. Sunset will occur at 4:24.

Alice and Emma entertained each other while I worked on transitioning my office equipment from my desk to a surface next to my big-screen TV, where I was able to connect my computer and pick up the pieces from the wind damage that wreaked havoc on my setup for being able to dictate into a microphone, highlight the text, and listen back in my headphones so I can continue doing the voodoo that I do. Being as cold as it was, we continued our routine of going out multiple times for shorter stretches that allowed them to wrestle with each other and burn off some steam before scrambling back inside, where they could power nap, and I could continue scratching my way back to productivity. Like we had done on Thursday, we sat together and watched the sunset, all three of us, and waited for Emma's human to come pick her up for the weekend. Me and Alice started binge-watching a new movie series, I did a little more work recovering the journal commentary, and we called it a day later than normal but ready to go first thing in the morning, finishing up the work on this week's collection of entries.

Observation of the day: A restless mind makes for a strange bedfellow.

Saturday, 01/04/2025:

Sunrise was at 7:18 a.m., under partly cloudy skies, with continued strong winds and air temperatures at 31°, resulting in a wind chill of 10°. Sunset will occur at 4:24.

The winds calmed down as the day progressed, but temperatures never made it out of the twenties. Me and Alice continued our progress with indoor affairs, but we had plenty of time and opportunity to sit with the wind chimes and enjoy what little warmth there was during our rest breaks, getting some fresh air. With the help of a bit of duct tape and some baling twine, I successfully stood up the temporary office so I could finish this week's journal entry on time. The featured image for this week's release is a picture I took of the First new moon of 2025. Mother Nature, in all her winter glory, even with the roller coaster ride of weather conditions she threw at us this week, never feels to inspire. The deep blue sky she gave us just after sunset, as the moon and North Star were hot on the heels of the sun, froze me in place, figuratively and literally.

Observation of the day: The more time you spend with Mother Nature, and her winter season of death and rebirth, the more obvious it becomes that it's all the things you can't see that truly give you vision.

Weekly PostScript:

The weather was all over the map this week, and when it hit the 50s, I was tempted to think I picked the one year that the winter in the Northeast would be breaking records for being one of the mildest in recent history. Sustained winds, coupled with temperatures that dug their heels in somewhere around the low to mid-20s, very quickly disabuse me of that notion.

If Mother Nature could speak English, I'm pretty sure she would tell me she had only given me the 50s, so I would get cocky just long enough for her to slap me in the forehead with a reality check. The forecast for the coming week tells us there will be record-cold temperatures in large swaths of the northern half of the US.

It occurs to me that this is the only English she needs to speak, and it's on me to listen; this Journal is intended to meet winter on her terms, find the beauty and wonder of the season of death and rebirth, and learn to love and appreciate her work. Given the forecast ahead, I get the feeling she's just getting started.