bringing the light in

venice diaries, ep. 11: reflections on winter

Today, the darkness rolled in.

I looked up from my laptop around 3 p.m. to see that it was already dusk. I thought I had another hour to enjoy a smidgeon of the sunshine that beamed in my room earlier in the day. But while I was studying, a thick fog had rolled in, so thick anyone walking a few meters in front of you appeared as if they were an apparition. Winter had raised her head in all her power, as if to say, Don’t be fooled by the sunshine, I’m here to stay.

It was as if the fog was absorbing all the light. The sky was gray, the earth was gray, the air was gray. The clothes I had hung on the line earlier in the sunshine ended up wetter than they were when I took them out of the washing machine. Winter wrapped the town in darkness and water.

But the light fought back.

December is my favorite of the winter months because it eases us into the darkest days with cheer, warmth, and light. The same build-up to Christmas also holds our hand to the winter solstice. Light fills towns and homes, Christmas markets pop up to give people something to do until the acceptable time of 8 p.m. to go home and settle in for the evening, and all the decorations are meant to invoke coziness.

Despite the thick fog and early night, the Christmas lights still flickered. They added warmth to the cold and damp, a soft glow to illuminate your next steps and reassure you that you weren’t walking into the darkness. The fog was nearly thick enough to hide them, but it didn’t win.

you could set a christmas murder mystery here

This year, winter is hitting me hard. I’m in my house once the sun goes down and it’s really hard to get me out of it once it’s dark. If I don’t get something done by 4 p.m., I feel like the day is over and it’ll have to wait till tomorrow. For the last three years, I was living in Mallorca and Barcelona. It’s warmer there and the sunset time is about an hour later than Venice’s. It’s cold, it’s dark, and don’t ask me how I’m filling my cold, dark evenings because I can’t tell you. One moment, it’s 4:30 p.m. and I’m deciding I’m in for the night and fighting for motivation, the next it’s midnight—and I’m not sure what happens in between.

Last night, I decorated my itty bitty Christmas tree. On L’Immacolata, I went to buy my itty bitty tree, already feeling behind in my Christmas spirit. But I saw so many families in my neighborhood putting up lights and decorating. Later, I saw a Reel explaining that December 8th is the day that Italians decorate. So, I wasn’t behind, I had just subconsciously adapted. Right?

I felt so joyful and proud toting the tiny tree through the piazza under the Christmas lights. It was a world away from kneeling down in the pasture, going back and forth back and forth with a small handsaw, hoping no cows saw me because they’d always chase the 4-wheeler in the winter, no matter how much hay there is.

You don’t know adrenaline until you’re zooming up a hill with fifteen cows chasing you, jumping and tossing their heads because they think the small cedar bobbing up and down with each bump is a sack of food.

But this was the first live tree I’ve had in three years, as tiny as it is. The same pricking of my fingers that made me grumble as I carefully wound a string of warm lights around it also reminded me of all those other Christmases. Most importantly, it reminded me that my little tree is alive! I’ve brought life and a green, growing thing into my home! The forest has come inside to sit on my Ikea coffee table! I brought light and life to sit with me in the darkness!

Right before writing this post, I read Dr. Rebecca Marks’s (@culturedump) excellent note about the fir tree and how it’s long represented survival and endurance. While deciduous trees drop their leaves to hunker down till spring, the evergreens not only survive, but thrive. Dr. Marks said, “Longevity, forbearance, tenacity: these are all values we like to remind ourselves of, once the nights start drawing in.” I’m looking over at my little Christmas tree as I write and something in it speaks to me and brings me a sense of peace. And I don’t think it’d be a stretch to say it’s perhaps a similar sensation that has led people to bring Christmas trees, pinecones, holly, and branch trimmings into their homes to decorate for the holidays for many, many years.

This past weekend, I went to Trento for its Christmas markets. The city was lovely and the Christmas markets were beautiful, if a bit crowded. Give me a hot drink in a pretty mug and some fried sugary dough, and I’m happy. But the highlight of the trip wasn’t the markets, it was the castle.

We didn’t plan to go to Buonconsiglio Castle. My friend and I kind of just stumbled into the courtyard, drawn in by the orange vines trailing down the stone walls. But once someone explained to us that it was free because it was the first day of the month? Yeah, we went inside.

castello del buonconsiglio

The castle is gorgeous and is probably one of my top castles—if I told my sixteen-year-old self that same statement, she’d be gobsmacked that we had a “top castle.” The architecture has the Venetian Gothic influences and there are absolutely stunning frescoes. But they also had an exhibit about winter in anticipation of the winter Olympics. The inspiration was that the castle has frescoes to represent each month of the year. But it featured different paintings of different styles, ornate stoves, and even a room dedicated to sleighs (my favorite looked like a Venetian gondola).

While there were many cool things in the exhibition, the main thing that struck me was how much fun people were portrayed as having in so much of the art. For hundreds of years, people have ice skated hand in hand with loved ones or laughed at somebody wiping out. People have had snowball fights and they’ve sledded down hills. There’s joy.

some of the gorgeous art. plus a sleigh that looks like a gondola!

Winter gets a bad rap and rightfully so. The days are short, it’s cold, and it can be harsh. Things die in winter, a cycle ends. Winter is hard work.

I’m a bit disconnected from it now living in an urban area, but on the farm, the hardest times were when the temperature got bitterly cold and things began to freeze. You have to monitor water and break ice to make sure animals have enough to drink, we’d hammer feed sacks and carpets to the outside of the chicken coop to keep them warm, the dogs would get extra straw in their houses, we had to haul wood into our house often, and everyone would get extra food. That’s not even including how much more likely things were to break. Thankfully, those periods don’t last that long in Tennessee, but when they happen, things shut down.

Yet, some of my best memories are when it snowed. I cannot even begin to express how fun it is to get pulled by a 4-wheeler in a sled down a snowed-over country road. And snow angels? Making snow cream? The way the whole world gets quiet? Top tier experiences.

But the best part of snow days when you’re a kid? Farm chores aside? Everything is put on pause except the most immediate necessities. The pressure is off.

I can’t say the same for winters these days. While Christmas lights making the nights glow are definitely a way to cope with the darkest days, it’s not in our modern culture to slow down. My productivity has felt so low the past month and it’s largely because I have very little motivation to do anything once the sun sets, even cooking dinner. And I am so harsh on myself because of it. Thankfully, sitting under blankets with my sticky toffee rooibos tea and typing away at my silly little Substack is something I can still happily do when all other motivation fades. But everything else? It ain’t happening once the sun goes down.

We might not be in a primarily agricultural society anymore, but the darkness has to affect us. People get SAD, folks in more northern countries need to take Vitamin D supplements… there’s no way we’re supposed to push through to have the same productivity levels we have during other times of the year, right? Historically, people have slowed down in winter because they had to. Now we don’t have to, we just push through our work while criticizing ourselves for not being disciplined enough to stop yawning.

Or is that just me?

Yesterday, I was on my way to the library to… you guessed it, be productive. But I ended up in Zattere on one of Venice’s glittery winter days where the air is cold, but the sun still feels strong. And I never made it to the library. Instead, I sat on a bench outside for about an hour just soaking in the sun, feeling like a turtle on a log.

During the summers, we hide from the light, the heat. But in the winters, we seek the light. We need it to keep our sanity during the long, dark nights. And maybe we shouldn’t just bring extra light and coziness into our homes for December, but the rest of the winter months too. Perhaps if we allow ourselves to slow down, seek the joy in the season, and keep bringing the light in, winter wouldn’t just be something to get through but something to enjoy.

i’m sorry, how can you go be productive in a dark library when you could be people- and pigeon-watching in the sunshine?

My ornament line-up: a siurell windmill and roba de llengües heart from Mallorca; straw stars and a ceramic tree from Munich; a plush crown, a Globe ornament, and Hadestown keychain from London, a caga tío from Barcelona; a licitar heart from Zagreb; a ceramic bell from Trento and a couple keychains from Cortina d’Ampezzo and Lago Brais; a plush fleur de lis from Versailles; little ceramic wooden shoes from Amsterdam; a cowboy boot a friend painted and gifted me; and a little heart my host sister made me two years ago in Veneto.

I’ve collected them all over the last three years. Didn’t think I had that many, but there’s hardly room for them on my tiny tree.

Thanks for reading! After the London aside, now I’m getting back to a more regular schedule for the venice diaries, even if this is three days later than my ideal Sunday posting day <3