Falling back

“An extra yawn one morning in the springtime, an extra snooze one night in the autumn is all that we ask in return for dazzling gifts. We borrow an hour one night in April; we pay it back with golden interest five months later.” — British statesman, military officer and writer Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965)

The end of daylight savings time came this past Sunday in the wee hours at 2 a.m., kicking off a week of waking up early because my cats can’t tell time.

For Squeak, Rocket and Patches, all prying my eyelids open like their cartoonish counterpart Garfield, their 5:30 a.m. breakfast just became 4:30 a.m.

And by the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, I had the melody of Simon & Garfunkel’s hit 1964 folk song “The Sounds of Silence” running through my head as I scanned the darkening mid-afternoon sky.

“Hello Darkness, my old friend. Soon you’ll be here at 4 p.m.”

Indeed, as the clocks fall back and the days grow shorter, the inexorable slide towards the dark, cold winter months continues apace. No more lingering summer evenings or lazy Sundays spent outdoors, at least not until spring warmth returns. It’s time to trade in my shorts and sandals for cozy sweaters and hoodies, long pants, boots, and warm socks, coats, gloves and Stormy Kromers.

My long-handled ice scraper, unburied from the back seat of my Escape after months of hibernation, has already removed more than a few morning frosts off my windshield. And the bird seed and suet feeders outside the dinette window have quickly become the popular local breakfast diner for the feathered friend crowd.

As the seasons change and the nights grow darker, I find myself looking through my recipes in anticipation of whipping up steaming pots of soups, stews and chilis to ward off the evening chill. There’s something therapeutic about chopping vegetables and simmering pots on a cold autumn evening.

Looking ahead to the holidays, Thanksgiving later this month and Christmas the next, the smells of roasting turkey and baking pies permeating the house always transports me back in time, filling my mind with memories of holidays with families, warm firesides, and cozy nights wrapped in blankets. The kitchen filled with the sweet scent of cookies, cakes and pies, and the sounds of laughter. The nostalgia of Christmases past and family holiday traditions passed down through the generations.

But despite the glass-half-full promise of cozy home and hearth nights, the glass-half-empty reality of Mr. Snow Miser’s wintry arrival is often far from idyllic.

“I’m Mister White Christmas, I’m Mister Snow. I’m Mister Icicle, I’m Mister Ten below.”

Frosty mornings spent scraping ice off my windshield, shivering commutes on slippery roads, and endless gray skies can take their toll on even the most optimistic.

Winter’s darkness, admittedly, brings out the curmudgeonly worst in some of us, turning once-cheerful souls into grumpy, snappish creatures. But for others, it’s a chance to hunker down, get creative and find joy in simple pleasures — homemade hot chocolate, movie marathons, or playing board and card games around the table. And there are still others who embrace winter wholeheartedly as a time to get outside and explore the natural world — skiing, snowshoeing, skating, ice fishing and sledding.

People often talk about the magic of winter, and there’s indeed something special about twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, or the way frost and freshly-fallen snow sparkles in the sunlight. And there’s beauty in the everyday moments, too, whether decorating holiday cookies with family in the kitchen or watching big, fluffy snowflakes dance outside the window. Those are the moments that make the long winter season worth bearing, at least in my book.

For some, winter is a season of solitude, a chance to curl up under a warm blanket with a good book, letting the world outside fade into quiet darkness. Others crave the company of loved ones, sharing stories and laughter by the fire. And then there are those, like myself, who find themselves somewhat of a mixed bag, caught somewhere in between the desire for quiet solitude and the need for human connection.

I could just as easily get lost curled up with a Nero Wolfe whodunnit as gather around the fireplace with loved ones, swapping stories and playing games.

The long, dark winter ahead may not be everyone’s cup of hot cocoa, or maybe even glass of Bailey’s-spiked ‘nog, but for those of us who even grudgingly welcome its chill arrival, it’s a time for embracing the cozy, finding solace in loved ones and making memories that last long after the snow melts away.

As time-looped weatherman Phil Connors eventually learns and embraces in the hit 1993 motion picture “Groundhog Day,” as he faced the prospect of an unending winter in Punxsutawney, “When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people … and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn’t imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.”

Here’s to the snug and joyful autumn and winter ahead!

Eric Johnson can be reached at eric@fyinorthwoods.com.