wintering.

oh, january. that sweep of chill and grey, stretching on and on, like pearls on a string, far beyond the yuletide and solstice, when we pause and take stock and pay attention and drink in the quiet and seek out the happy little things that keep our spirits up and carry us from snowfall to snowfall and straight on til spring --

a book to get lost in. a chunky knit blanket. a new pie recipe. flickering candlelight. a hot, hot bath. pretty papers and stamps for love notes. bright roses. a bowl of mandarins. documentaries. fluffy white bath towels, freshly washed in lavender. friday afternoons. fog dancing in the bare branches. devotchka on repeat. a book of mary oliver's poetry, for the train, for the post office wait, for while the laundry spins. strong black coffee with a kiss of brown sugar and molasses. much hygge.