Nature looks dead in winter because her life is gathered into her heart.

December is really a special month.  It is a time of year to quit complaining that it is cold outside,  to take a deep breath and settle down a little more into the inner warmth.  Thus, when the snow began swirling wet and heavy outside my window on December 1st, and the fury of the wind set the vents to rattling, and the hot watertank exploded …  (oh wait… the hot water tank disaster had nothing to do with it…. )   I began to feel the urge to stare in quiet contemplation at small white twinkle lights,  to watch the flicker of a candle reflected in a glass of red wine… er.. I mean.. mulled apple juice.   To cozy up beneath thick warm blankets amid the glow and sparkle of Christmas décor. 

When Snow came a Falling
Watercolour
by RiverWalker Arts. 

And so it was that I set out to create the space that I wanted to enjoy.   Having never really done much more than string a few lights, pop up a tree I had a few things to acquire.  This town will provide if you look hard enough and are willing to improvise.  Home after raiding every store in town, I walked upstairs with my bag filled with sparkling miscellany and DH just laughed at me.   Reminding me how silly all this temporary décor really is and how taking it all down in a month will be a chore, and that we will have to then store it all somewhere for the next 11 months…. .  I didn’t care, and told him as much. 

Across the mantle I laid dark green garlands with shiny baubles and glittering red ribbons, I strung lights around the windows, and pulled out the beautifully crafted stockings my grandmother had quilted for us.   I tucked more garland and plaid ribbon around my chandelier, tied bows on the backs of my dinning room chairs.   DH indulged me and set up our lovely fake tree.  (I will not wade into the fake vs. real tree discussion – suffice to say I love them both,  but have chosen for the mean time to have a fake tree if for no other reason than it can stand for longer indoors without going brown and dropping all it’s needles) 

Photo ©RiverWalker Arts 2012

When DH plugged in the tree and in the dimness of the living room it exploded into light, Chicken Little who had been busy putting a shiny purple bauble first on and then taking it off the tree sat back on his haunches and exclaimed in his little one year old voice “ woooooaaahhhhh.”  He then proceeded to spend the next 30 or so minutes talking to the tree in his loudest gibberish.   I wish I had captured this on camera – alas it was not to be and I shall have to suffice with the memory.

Later that night, Chicken Little tucked into bed, DH admitted the place looked festive and lovely, and that we should have friends over to play games and enjoy food together as a way of embracing the festive nature of this special season.  

Isn't it funny that at Christmas something in you gets so lonely for - I don't know what exactly, but it's something that you don't mind so much not having at other times.  ~Kate L. Bosher