Yesterday I pulled our winter blanket out of the upstairs closet, brought it down and retired the summer blanket, a light weight down quilt. This semi-annual blanket exchange is a constant in my life. It signals either the acceptance of colder weather or the welcoming of warmer. Our unseasonably cold October has forced me to admit the inevitable - time to perform this simple seasonal ritual, one of many repetitive actions that mark a path through my life.
Our winter blanket is an uncovered quilt, several inches thick, filled with wool batting. It came our way from a friend who no longer needed it, more years ago than my memory serves. It’s heavy, super warm, cozy and yellowed with age. I wrestled it into a duvet cover. Done. Winter’s arrival accepted. Too cold, too early.
The light and spotty layer of snow now on the ground will soon be replaced with nature’s winter blanket. We will adapt, do wintry things, add layers of clothing, get out the snow shovels and roof rakes, scrape layers of ice from our windshields...
After what may seem to be a terribly long time the warm weather will quietly push away the cold, spring will return, the summer blanket will be returned to the bed, and I’ll be planting the garden once more.
