By Linda Cuttriss
WINTER has a bad reputation but I love the way it swings smoothly through all its moods. Wild and windy. Crisp, still and sunny. Calm, grey and drizzly. And back again.
On some winter days swell from storms in the Southern Ocean crashes violently upon the rocks. At other times the sea is calm and serene. Sometimes there are days of heavy rain changing paddocks into wetlands. On clear days sunshine illuminates green pastures and shimmers across the bay. Some mornings fog settles in the hollows.
WINTER has a bad reputation but I love the way it swings smoothly through all its moods. Wild and windy. Crisp, still and sunny. Calm, grey and drizzly. And back again.
On some winter days swell from storms in the Southern Ocean crashes violently upon the rocks. At other times the sea is calm and serene. Sometimes there are days of heavy rain changing paddocks into wetlands. On clear days sunshine illuminates green pastures and shimmers across the bay. Some mornings fog settles in the hollows.
The sky is a canvas for winter’s moods. An overcast sky shrouds the sea in a dull grey gloom. Brush strokes slashed in white across the blue above or dappled patterns way up high energise the day. And when a rainbow paints an arc into ominous clouds we can be sure there’s more drama on the way.
Winter brings the cosy feeling of wearing winter woollies and the open fire at night. Rugging up with beanie, scarf, gloves and jacket and stepping out for a bracing walk makes you feel invincible. Breathing in winter’s clean, crisp air is utterly invigorating.
Winter can be a time of reprieve from the busyness of life. The season of quiet reflection. For some, it’s a chance to be reclusive. We can give ourselves permission to be lazy or seize the day and start projects at home that we’ve been wanting to do.
Winter is honest. It doesn’t try to be anything it isn’t. We expect it to be cold, so we are never disappointed. And then we are treated to a day right out of the box. A sunny, cloudless day that warms the cockles of our hearts.
Spring can be so fickle and often frustrates. Spring promises warmer weather and longer days and heralds that summer is on its way. But it plays with us, keeps us waiting, tempts us with a sunny morning then lashes us with cold wind and rain by afternoon. The season of rebirth and growth is fraught with unpredictability.
Summer is the season of celebration. Full of sounds and sights and smells. Of happy memories. Of carefree days, holidays. Of wearing almost no clothes. Of plunging in the sea. But when the grass dries out and hot northerlies blow, summer can be menacing.
Autumn has to be my favourite. The settled season. Fine sunny days with hardly any wind. Days that are not too hot and not too cold. Perfect for long walks and working in the garden. A time to clean up, take stock and get ready for winter. It is the season most likely to dish out little bonuses. As autumn draws to a close, any warm sunny day is tantalising, made more precious from knowing that it could be the last until spring.
Winter is whitecaps on the water, magpies calling to each other and banksias in bloom. Pacific gulls soaring above clifftops, lifted by the wind. A grey shrike thrush flitting into the garden, enchanting us with its melodious song. When I come to think of it, I don’t mind winter at all. In fact, by the time I’ve had enough of it, I realise it is actually spring.
Winter brings the cosy feeling of wearing winter woollies and the open fire at night. Rugging up with beanie, scarf, gloves and jacket and stepping out for a bracing walk makes you feel invincible. Breathing in winter’s clean, crisp air is utterly invigorating.
Winter can be a time of reprieve from the busyness of life. The season of quiet reflection. For some, it’s a chance to be reclusive. We can give ourselves permission to be lazy or seize the day and start projects at home that we’ve been wanting to do.
Winter is honest. It doesn’t try to be anything it isn’t. We expect it to be cold, so we are never disappointed. And then we are treated to a day right out of the box. A sunny, cloudless day that warms the cockles of our hearts.
Spring can be so fickle and often frustrates. Spring promises warmer weather and longer days and heralds that summer is on its way. But it plays with us, keeps us waiting, tempts us with a sunny morning then lashes us with cold wind and rain by afternoon. The season of rebirth and growth is fraught with unpredictability.
Summer is the season of celebration. Full of sounds and sights and smells. Of happy memories. Of carefree days, holidays. Of wearing almost no clothes. Of plunging in the sea. But when the grass dries out and hot northerlies blow, summer can be menacing.
Autumn has to be my favourite. The settled season. Fine sunny days with hardly any wind. Days that are not too hot and not too cold. Perfect for long walks and working in the garden. A time to clean up, take stock and get ready for winter. It is the season most likely to dish out little bonuses. As autumn draws to a close, any warm sunny day is tantalising, made more precious from knowing that it could be the last until spring.
Winter is whitecaps on the water, magpies calling to each other and banksias in bloom. Pacific gulls soaring above clifftops, lifted by the wind. A grey shrike thrush flitting into the garden, enchanting us with its melodious song. When I come to think of it, I don’t mind winter at all. In fact, by the time I’ve had enough of it, I realise it is actually spring.