I like winter, it must be said, but it’s a little frosty in my house today. As I write, I lean over from my chair and snap this picture.
We’re having new windows installed, and it’s snowy winter here. The window leaning against the ladder will soon be hoisted up and installed in our bathroom. In the meantime . . .
There’s a chill in my house.
Not to mention an invading army of workers who moved in and commandeered the place as of 7:10 a.m.
It snowed the day in late October when we returned to Ottawa from sunny days of hiking in England, and it has not really let up since.
Winter arrived unusually early for us.
According to the article “Winter Leaves that Hang On” by Jim Finley on the Penn State College of Agriculture Sciences website:
Sometimes, early cold weather or frosts may interrupt the abscission process or “kill” leaves quickly. In these cases, the occurrence of marcescent leaves may increase.Jim Finley
I already worry about how people who don’t like winter will manage. I’ll walk in the snow, and ski, and skate and enjoy it, but I know the extra-long winter will wear on others. I already feel some of them withering.
And now, this is what I see when I look up from my chair.
That window is out. My room is cold. It’s interrupting my “abscission” process (the natural detachment of parts of a plant, typically dead leaves and ripe fruit) and killing my writing quickly.
Consider this last line a marcescent leaf.
Some days I barely manage to thole the Twitter experience. Other days, it sends wonderful gifts.
Last week, @RobGMacfarlane sent this gift:
Word of the day: “thole” – to endure with fortitude, to cope with suffering or challenge patiently & with dignity (Scots).
This is one of my favourite Scots verbs; quietly, toughly inspiring. If a situation is “tholeable” it is, in the end, with courage & support, survivable. pic.twitter.com/mv3U7x0OPD
— Robert Macfarlane (@RobGMacfarlane) September 5, 2018
Fantastic word, that.
Quietly, toughly inspiring, as he says. The simple act of reading the definition fills my “thole” with a renewed vigour.
Sometimes we feel like this lone twig on a barren tree.
Other days nothing can hold us back, like these robust colourful blossoms.
Lonely twig or robust blossom, I thole, you thole, we all thole together.