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It is winter proper; the cold weather, such as it is, has come to stay. I bloom indoors in the winter like a forced forsythia; I come in to come out. At night I read and write, and things I have never understood become clear; I reap the harvest of the rest of the year's planting. The woods are acres of sticks: I could walk to the Gulf of Mexico in a straight line. When the leaves fall, the striptease is over; things stand mute and revealed. Everywhere skies extend, vistas deepen, walls become windows, doors open.
by Annie Dillard
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The arrival of winter brings a permanence to the cold, transforming the landscape into a stark yet revealing environment. Dillard reflects on her indoor life during this season, likening her growth to that of forsythia, which blooms despite the chill. As she spends her evenings reading and writing, she experiences clarity and insight, harvesting the knowledge she has accumulated throughout the year.

The barren woods, stripped of their leaves, reveal an openness, allowing for new perspectives and deeper appreciation of the world around her. As nature undergoes its annual transformation, Dillard observes a stark beauty; the landscapes become more expansive, and what was once hidden is now visible. The simplicity of the winter scene invites contemplation and an awakening to the truths that lie beneath the surface.

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Pilgrim at Tinker Creek
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