composting
we tell ourselves that, sure, the dead of winter is when we’ll finally pull off dreams we claimed to have no time or energy for last spring, when all the flowers were blooming and butterflies were practically landing right on our heads. None of it makes a bit of sense.
Anna Brones • Make January an in-Between Month

In nature it’s more like we all get our day, our time. Nothing blooms 365 days of the year, someone told me that.
adrienne maree brown • Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds
Sleep is not a dead space, but a doorway to a different kind of consciousness—one that is reflective and restorative, full of tangential thought and unexpected insights. In winter, we are invited into a particular mode of sleep: not a regimented eight hours, but a slow, ambulatory process in which waking thoughts merge with dreams, and space is
... See moreKatherine May • Wintering
Composting all the scraps of the year. Looking at what we sowed, and reaping. Thinking about the seeds we’ll plant in next year's garden. Thinking it’s going to be flowers.
Ann Friedman • You're Doing Something Right
Winter is a time of withdrawing from the world, maximising scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but that’s where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible.
Katherine May • Wintering
Jeremy D Johnson • "Three Theses on Liminality"
That’s what you learn in winter: there is a past, a present, and a future. There is a time after the aftermath.