Cold weather appreciated

Come in, come in! Close the door -- it’s cold out there. Come stand by the fire. You’re just in time to watch the sunset.

This is my favorite moment of the day, the time of day I most appreciate this west-facing glass wall bringing in the outdoors. Like a beautiful mural, isn’t it? No, much better, really: The world outside is always on the move. Trees sway, leaves fall, birds come and go from the feeders all day. Why, even on still days, the light changes as the day ebbs, clouds throw patterns -- there’s always movement.

Don’t you love winter in Georgia? I do, I really do. (I know it’s still a month before winter arrives, but I start winter whenever it’s cold enough to dig out thermal underwear.)

I love the way the sky looks when dark clouds bank up on one side and the low slant of the sun burnishes the earth. I love winter colors: tawny grasses, red-leather leaves all frosted, tree trunks shiny black after a rain.

Azure skies, another blessing, the perfect backdrop for a display of the architecture of trees, the strength of their trunks and the lace of their twigs.

These wonders are cloaked when the trees are in leaf. Walking, sometimes we’ll spot a bird’s nest in a shrub within arm’s reach. When its owner built it last spring, it was hidden from view, invisible as she guarded her eggs, hatched and fed her brood, darting in and out of the bush a hundred times a day. And we were none the wiser.

And a winter full moon -- oh my! In the full moon just past we woke to see white light in shards on the floor, scattered by branches raking the sky. Summer moonlight is ethereal; winter’s is brittle as ice.

Well, all right, I like every season, but I have a special fondness for weather that begs for steaming soup and a fire in the stove. Don’t you love to linger under a thick down comforter on a chilly morning?

I don’t miss warm weather tasks like watering and deadheading flowers, or sweeping decks and walkways as we have to in the fall. I certainly don’t miss the chiggers and no-see’ums that make summer work miserable. Sweatshirts suit me better than tank tops, and I look better in jeans than in shorts.

You say you hadn’t noticed the ponds behind the house before? Another plus for cold weather: When the leaves are off the trees, we can see the glint of sunlight on the water, especially when the ducks are splashing.

Which reminds me: Last year’s visiting Mandarin duck has returned. I thought I saw two of them, but for sure one was there this week.

I guess it sounds Pollyanna-ish, but I don’t even mind gray days when the trees bow and the eaves are fringed with ice. Sure, I get tired of the cold. The older I get, the colder I get, and the more grateful that someone invented the electric blanket. But I relish the comfort of the stove, the occasional rain sluicing down the glass, the bushes all glassy. I love the sense of well-being, gratitude that we don’t have to go anywhere.

(That’s the big difference, of course: We don’t have to go anywhere. If working at home or retiring early has no other argument, there’s a strong one in simply being able to stay in the place you love best. I hope the trends toward even more telecommuting are here to stay.)

There, the water’s hot; let’s find a tea bag.

Look. Look at that painted sky. I make it a point to stop and watch the sun set -- there are only so many sunsets in a lifetime.

Used to dread winter, thought it the old age of the year and a reminder of my own mortality.

But then the days begin to lengthen, and the sunsets are spaced further apart, and I sit down to write in full confidence that there will be another, and another.

I’m glad you were here to share this one.

Recipe for a cold evening*:

Cook the Thanksgiving turkey until it’s easy to pick off its bones. Remove bones from cooking broth. Set broth out on the screen porch until fat hardens on the surface. Scoop it away and discard.

Chop some celery, onion, parsley, cook until tender. Combine with de-fatted broth, bite-sized pieces of meat, then add frozen corn. Salt and pepper to taste. Heat thoroughly, serve with rolls or a small salad, maybe some leftover cranberry relish.

A great way to say “good-bye” to the Thanksgiving bird.

*A regular event in the Pennsylvania Dunkard churches where the women gather around huge caldrons stirring soup.