Lovely Weather

Today, Gentle Reader, I am going to write about the weather.  Yes I can hear you sigh with relief especially following that nasty spate of screed against the Anglican Church.  Today, I promise to keep it light.  And speaking of light, GR, have you noticed that already the days are beginning to get longer again?  Come on, just a little bit.  Listen here, our absolute shortest day already came and went.  December 21.  And we were blessed with a whopping eight hours eleven minutes of daylight exactly.  The sun rose at 8:05 in the morning and set at 4:16.  It felt like the end of the world, Gentle Reader.  And now the bad news.  Today, 11 January, exactly twenty-one days, or three weeks following that dread event, this morning the sun rose again at 8:05.  The good news?  It didn't set today until 4:36!  That's an extra twenty minutes of daylight today! Eight hours and twenty glorious minutes!

We'll wait for the cheering to stop...

Everyone's still cheering...

I guess we'll simply have to speak above the roar...

In these northern climes we are easily affected by the lack of sun.  We are creatures of the day.  Sunlight is part of our DNA.  We are not a race of vampires.  We are creatures of the day, children of the light.  This of course is why Christmas was moved to coincide with the ancient Roman Saturnalia.  What better time than when it is darkest and the night is longest to celebrate...Everything.  From the birth of a tiny baby whose death would save the world, to the gathering of families, to the feasting, the music, the coloured lights, candles and roaring fireplaces, the libations and the partying and the acts of good and charitable works.  We all do this to remember and to summon forth the light even as it remains at its most distant from our part of the planet.

They say that the first week of January is the most depressing week of the year.  For me, no.  It is a time of hope and expectancy.  The minutes and seconds of daylight are already beginning their slow march forward.  My body, tired from eating excessively all the right foods to land me in coronary care (believe it or not I lost three pounds this Christmas!) craves in abundance fresh overpriced fruits and vegetables, plain whole wheat bread (I bake bread every week.  Recipe to follow), good wholesome cheese.  For me  this is when Spring really begins. 

You don't believe me?  Do you realize that already the snowdrops are blooming?  They are early this year.  I saw my first one December 22, and the day after Boxing Day there was a daffodil in full glorious bloom.





Near the daffodil there are also several franklinia bushes in full bloom.  They are fragrant and these ones are red.  Here is a white franklinia.



It is not an unusually mild winter.  We have had three cold snaps since November, lots of frost but only a half day of a little bit of snow.  When it rains it warms up to eight degrees or a bit warmer.  When it is sunny the mercury plunges to near zero.  The winter light is magical: long sinuous shadows and beams of light tinged with copper and gold and a sky that can be best described as fiercely blue.  The trees are all covered with glistening green moss and ferns. 



This is winter.

The rain is back and will likely be around for much of the week.  It was dark today and a heavy solemnity weighed over everything.  This is the beauty of the winter weather here on the West Coast.
We don't avoid the weather, we go outside, embrace it and celebrate it giving vent to our inmost yearning for the coming spring.

And now, Gentle Reader, my bread recipe:

Preheat oven to 350 F.
In a mixing bowl blend three cups of whole wheat flour, three tablespoons brown sugar, two teaspoons baking powder and a half teaspoon salt.
Add one and a half cups milk and a quarter cup sunflower oil.

Mixing everything till it's a well blended mass that seems almost to breath on its own.  Dump the whole mass onto an oiled baking sheet.  Bake for 45-50 minutes.