This Winter in Daydreaming on the Porch

A few weeks ago we had three days in succession of the coldest weather I can ever remember since I’ve lived here on the coast of South Carolina. That cold spell did horrific damage to our plants, reminding us once again that Nature holds surprises, especially as climate change results in extreme weather events of all kinds.

But we are blessed to still have four very distinct seasons here. We get some quite cold days, but not many, just enough to let us know winter has come to stay for awhile. We have the abundant live oaks and their year-round green leaves to make the bare winter oaks and other trees stand out that much more.

We have absolutely perfect Spring and Fall seasons, which stretch out over weeks and months of the most delightfully cool weather, perfect for walking and being outdoors.

Summer is admittedly our most distinctive season, hot and humid for months on end, but if we get enough rain, our gardens and landscapes become green and verdant with a profusion of summer flowers. I’d say nine months of near-idyllic weather makes summers bearable. Life seems to be regulated in a sense by the changing seasons, and I always have my camera handy to record all the changes.

So back to winter. The recent successive days of deep freeze ended with a return to much more normal cool days and somewhat cold nights. So enjoyable for walks. But our cold snap reminded me of winters decades past, that seemed colder on average than now. So cold that I could be inspired to write this poem 23 years ago:


This Winter

Cold embrace of winter,

sharp and clear.

It livens me up.

Feels good to be out
, but
makes me retreat
Way back into my coat’s

deep-pocketed warmth,

seeking protection

from the season’s icy grip.

At last: cold, cold day at dawn;

still world and quarter-moon;

bare trees in slimmest blue sky

at first light of day.

No sounds, and silence

as cold air sinks deeper

and harder to the ground.

Be kind, sun,

to the tiny birds who flit

from branch to branch

in two pin oaks high above

the bench where I sit alone,

momentarily watching

with keen appreciation

these and other winged creatures

braving the elements

as if winter were just another
seasonal fact of life.

Today, this cold air is nice

and actually soothes my numbed brow.

There are no people around

to even slightly distract me

from my thoughts

of other winter days long past

in this beautiful old park
 in all seasons,

where I
 Catch rays of autumn insight

and notice spring’s delight

at showing off the ancient tulip poplar

full of yellow, cupped flowers.

Imagine that:

A soaring tree in bloom!

In summer I wait till near dusk

and venture out to this same park

to listen for crickets

and the last of the cicadas

droning farewell to the day.

I’m still on the bench,

ready to leave, but reluctant.

Not yet.

Sit a while longer.

I’ll talk a little more to you,
small inner voice

which keeps me company.

It’s only my thoughts.

Cold winter day

draws to a close.

Quick now.

I’m leaving.

These quiet moments of isolation

lost in idle reverie

will pass through time’s portal

and vanish.

But as I get up now,

I’m taking a deep breath

of that really cold air

And quickly leaving my thoughts behind.

They’ll be back soon enough.

This winter.

Last updated January 29, 2023