Catherine Drea: Wintering

It rained for what seemed like weeks then suddenly winter arrived. A friend who spent last year in balmy Tenerife told me to be honest she couldn’t wait for a bit of cold weather, any excuse to cosy up to a warm fire and drink something pink and bubbly.

I wondered about her enthusiasm as the days got shorter and the dark evenings longer. But then gradually the colder days began to have an impact and I noticed myself adjusting to the new pace. It feels like there’s a bit of a retreat going on; a slowing down and a quietened mind.

As I sit here at the window in that long shadowy winter sunshine, resisting all the advancing Christmas vibes, the local robin is literally looking in at me. At this time of the year the wintering birds gather and I feed them every day. As soon as they notice my movements in the morning they perform a fly past and remind me that it’s breakfast time.

But the robin takes it a step further and all through the day she follows my every move. If I am in the garden she will appear on the nearest branch or on the ground beside me. If I go to the next room she will follow me and suddenly appear at the window. If I walk up the lane, she will flit along beside me and appear in front of me perched on a branch and singing hopefully.

In winter it’s a diverse crowd that comes to the breakfast buffet. All the usual small birds including chaffinch, goldfinch, green finch, robin, dunnock, blue tit and great tit stay here all year round. But in the winter larger birds, including starlings, blackbirds, collared doves, also join in. Then sometimes when times are really tough out there the magnificent jays, corvids, and magpies join them.

Of course the local pheasants, living in the undergrowth, like to dine here too. Bullfinches, thrushes, long tailed tits and tiny goldcrests forage on the margins but never come to the feeders.

Now all this useless information about birdlife is part of slowing down and embracing the winter retreat. As the leaves die back these feathered friends are closer and more visible. Their goings on become part of my day and when the sun shines on them, their various colours and features are a mesmerising sight to behold.

But Christmas looms and I’m turning now to making those endless lists. Am I going to go the whole nine yards, the whole shebang, all the fuss and the endless catering? At first I baulk, of course not! I don’t believe in excessive consumption, endless shopping and overly sugary treats. But by the next evening I am gone down a rabbit hole after Christmas cake recipes and mocktail combinations and I am sold once again on the big traditional feast.

I was going to cut back and keep things very simple but I got a weakness and I splashed out on fake red holly berry lights and started watching wreath-making videos sent by my more Christmassy sisters. What wouldn’t we do to impress the younger generation? In the end a Christmas tree is bought and all the old decorations come out of the cupboard. Is it a real tree? Of course! (Although it is in a pot and will be planted out with the others from over the years. Sustainable you see!) 

We are lucky that while the weather cools, it is rarely unmanageable. In more ways than one, we are blessed to be living in a quiet backwater where there is peace and beauty around us. It can’t be ignored that as every day passes the world seems to slip further into crisis.

On the day Zelensky is in the Dáil thanking Ireland for our support, my sister, who lives in Stockholm, almost jumps out of her skin as the monthly practice emergency alarm rings out in the streets of the city. With an entire city plan in place for every possible impending disaster, it is a constant reminder that we are living in a very unstable world. 

Swedes now know what to do if anything happens, where to go, who is a first responder, who is the person who will lead them to a shelter. As I say to my sister, if we have an invasion here we won’t have a clue how to respond!

This is the way our European counterparts live with the fears and realities of the current world.

As I’m making my list of cake ingredients I am wondering about my Ukrainian friends living so far from home, about the children of Gaza living through another deadly winter, about my family living ever closer to the Russian threat. As always winter heightens their plight.

I said I wouldn’t bother with the cake but now I’m salivating about how good it will be.

Here I go, doing exactly the same thing all over again to make Christmas a celebration of life, of still being here.

And as I am mixing it up and smelling those Christmassy ingredients, do you know the best thing? Soon it will be the Winter Solstice, the shortest day and from then on the days will get longer again. And then myself and my colonies of wild birds will go on yet another trip around the sun! How bad!