A friend of mine is a poet in a hard hat.
He likes to speak of the rhythm of the seasons and how it grounds us.
Like the ‘unexpectedly decent’ September weather we’re enjoying at the moment.
Or the man I met out yesterday evening advising me to make the most of it, because it won’t be long until winter hits.
There is a certain comfort in experiencing and talking about these seasonal effects – because we get to do so every year. And they remind us of where and who we are.
Then Pete and Jennifer were talking about routine this morning. And one thing they mentioned was how having – for example – a morning routine to ground them is far less important to them than it used to be. Why? Well because our days in COVID times are less unpredictable and hence more full of routine than they used to be. So more routine isn’t necessarily welcome.
But while our days may be more predictable, they’re still not familiar. We will miss things this coming winter that we are used to happening every other winter.
And there is a lot of talk about the upcoming winter, for obvious reasons. Many people seem to be dreading it.
But rather than letting the thought of it get us down, maybe we should appreciate that at least it will still be winter. It will be cold and wet and miserable. And ironically deep down that might give us some comfort.