December- Winters have Arrived

December- Winters have Arrived

According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, the word winter comes from an old Germanic word for “time of water,” a reference to the heavy rain and snow happening at this time of year. The earth's spin axis is tilted with respect to its orbital plane. This is what causes the seasons. When the earth's axis points towards the sun, it is summer for that hemisphere. When the earth's axis points away, winters' arrival is expected. 

"Winters have arrived" is a statement that acknowledges the start of winter. Winter is the cold season that occurs between autumn and spring. In the Northern Hemisphere, winter is generally considered to begin on the winter solstice, which is the shortest day of the year, and end on the vernal equinox, which is the day when the length of day and night are equal. In the Northern Hemisphere, Winter is commonly regarded as extending from the winter solstice (year's shortest day), December 21 or 22, to the vernal equinox (day and night equal in length), March 20 or 21, and in the Southern Hemisphere from June 21 or 22 to September 22 or 23.

"Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home." "He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winters too". "Cuffing season" describes the phenomenon of wanting to couple up for the winter. This instinct is based in how we evolved to stay warm as a species. Even in the age of modern technology, we still enjoy using body heat to warm up. Snow, bare trees, overarching sky. A simple world. And in that simplicity is elegance, purity and a sparseness that no other season shows. To know winter is to know an elemental time of no distractions and nothing extraneous.

"Winter is coming" is an euphemism for 'troubled times are ahead' (read death). Being Stark words they convey a sense of foreboding, acting, as a way of life to be lived, always careful, keeping loved ones near and being ready for the worst. Winter may be a harder, harsher time of year, but it is necessary for growth. It gives us time for rest; even the snow nourishes the soil, allowing plants to grow stronger and more abundant. Without Winter, we miss that necessary rebuilding period of our year. 

The "Winter Blues" is a common name for experiencing a low mood in the winter months. Shorter days, gloomy weather forecasts and cold temperatures affect more than what we choose to wear each day; it can also play havoc with how we feel. The stillness of the frozen air heightens each of the senses, making the little details of a glimmering blanket of snow or a cardinal's song even more inspiring. Though the days are the shortest, they are still filled with natural wonder. 

December by Ina Donna Coolbrith

Now the summer all is over!

We have wandered through the clover,

We have plucked in wood and lea

Blue-bell and anemone.

We were children of the sun,

Very brown to look upon:

We were stainéd, hands and lips,

With the berries' juicy tips.

And I think that we may know

Where the rankest nettles grow,

And where oak and ivy weave

Crimson glories to deceive.

Now the merry days are over!

Woodland-tenants seek their cover,

And the swallow leaves again

For his castle-nests in Spain.

Shut the door, and close the blind:

We shall have the bitter wind,

We shall have the dreary rain

Striving, driving at the pane.

Send the ruddy fire-light higher;

Draw your easy chair up nigher;

Through the winter, bleak and chill,

We may have our summer still.

Here are poems we may read,

Pleasant fancies to our need:

Ah, eternal summer-time

Dwells within the poet's rhyme!

All the birds' sweet melodies

Linger in these songs of his;

And the blossoms of all ages

Waft their fragrance from his pages.

The Shepherds Calendar - December by John Clare

While snow the window-panes bedim,

The fire curls up a sunny charm,

Where, creaming o'er the pitcher's rim,

The flowering ale is set to warm;

Mirth, full of joy as summer bees,

Sits there, its pleasures to impart,

And children, 'tween their parent's knees,

Sing scraps of carols o'er by heart.

And some, to view the winter weathers,

Climb up the window-seat with glee,

Likening the snow to falling feathers,

In fancy infant ecstasy;

Laughing, with superstitious love,

O'er visions wild that youth supplies,

Of people pulling geese above,

And keeping Christmas in the skies.

As tho' the homestead trees were drest,

In lieu of snow, with dancing leaves,

As tho' the sun-dried martin's nest,

Instead of ickles, hung the eaves,

The children hail the happy day -

As if the snow were April's grass,

And pleas'd, as 'neath the warmth of May,

Sport o'er the water froze as glass.

A Calendar of Sonnets: December by Helen Hunt Jackson

The lakes of ice gleam bluer than the lakes

Of water 'neath the summer sunshine gleamed:

Far fairer than when placidly it streamed,

The brook its frozen architecture makes,

And under bridges white its swift way takes.

Snow comes and goes as messenger who dreamed

Might linger on the road; or one who deemed

His message hostile gently for their sakes

Who listened might reveal it by degrees.

We gird against the cold of winter wind

Our loins now with mighty bands of sleep,

In longest, darkest nights take rest and ease,

And every shortening day, as shadows creep

O'er the brief noontide, fresh surprises find. 

December Moon by May Sarton

Before going to bed

After a fall of snow

I look out on the field

Shining there in the moonlight

So calm, untouched and white

Snow silence fills my head

After I leave the window.

Hours later near dawn

When I look down again

The whole landscape has changed

The perfect surface gone

Criss-crossed and written on

where the wild creatures ranged

while the moon rose and shone.

why did my dog not bark?

Why did I hear no sound

There on the snow-locked ground

In the tumultuous dark?

How much can come, how much can go

When the December moon is bright,

What worlds of play we'll never know

Sleeping away the cold white night

After a fall of snow.

In drear nighted December,

Too happy, happy tree,

Thy branches ne’er remember

Their green felicity —

The north cannot undo them

With a sleety whistle through them

Nor frozen thawings glue them

From budding at the prime.

In drear nighted December,

Too happy, happy brook,

Thy bubblings ne’er remember

Apollo’s summer look;

But with a sweet forgetting,

They stay their crystal fretting,

Never, never petting

About the frozen time.

Ah! would ’twere with so many

A gentle girl and boy —

But were there ever any

Writh’d not of passing joy?

The feel of not to feel it,

Where there is none to heal it

Nor numbed sense to steel it,

Was never said in rhyme.

Cold December Eve

There's a lot I haven't said,

This cold December eve

There's a lot that you don't know,

This cold December Eve

There's a lot of things I wish I hadn't done,

This cold December Eve

There's a lot I want to tell you,

This cold December eve

There's a lot of things I wish you knew,

This cold December eve

There's a lot I still must do,

On this cold Christmas Eve

But you're the only one that I'll hold close,

On this cold Christmas Eve

So Merry Christmas my love,

On this cold December Eve

December by Thomas R Parsons



You have again made your way in,

Cold and beautiful.

You are December,

And I love you.

Despite the seasonal celebration,

I know you to be more.

You are calm,

You allow me to slow,

To envelope the tranquility I crave.

Your winds, December, though cold,

Allow me to feel the life in my cheeks,

And if I’m lucky,

It too will bring the sweetness

Of some distant firewood.

I welcome your snow, December.

So that I may sit wrapped in wool,

By candlelight,

The dog having nestled in as well,

Watching the frozen rain accumulate

On the branches of the birch and oak.

Though I live in the city,

I dream of loving you December,

Even more – if I were in nature.

Then I would feel closer to you,

As a lover may feel,

Or perhaps a mother to a child.

I would know, I think, how to

More fully know why I am in love

With you.

And being with you, December,

Brings me to life.

December Nights

December nights are different than the rest

In December I lie awake and listen to Christmas songs

In December I lie awake finding presents for my loved ones

In December I lie awake thinking about what I'll cook over the holidays

Why can't every month be December?

Till The End Of December by Timur Shamatov



It’s been said that I couldn’t do it,

Go without a nut till the end of December.

The whispers growing louder as

The bets are growing higher,

Cause no one trust the line that

Timur has given up the nut,

Ah, let me check... yes

From the mid of November.

Am I crazy to play this game?

Cause I’m as weak as any other man.

And what can be better then a nut on

A cold morning in mid of December?

And oh my god there’s so many nuts,

Of every shape, size and color

But ****** I’m a man and I can

Give up a nut till the end of December.

But you better believe it

That the day after The Cold Sad December,

Your boy is going crazy to celebrate

The End Of No Nut December.