Happy belated New Year! December seemed to go by in a whirlwind and all of a sudden, we approaching the end of January. I have not had a new year’s resolution for a while as, in general, I find they go awry, and I feel that a positive change is something that can be embraced at any time of the year, without ‘the pressure’. So why is January given such a bad rep? With the immense build up to Christmas that has become the norm these days, the other side of the coin must equate to a massive anticlimax……what goes up must come down after all. Now, I have to fess up here, I have always been someone that wants to whizz through this month as fast as humanly possible. As I write this, the view from my window is what could be described as quintessentially January’ish’.  It’s very grey, very wet and very muddy. This week, whilst driving to site, it was all about ‘blue Monday’ on the radio.  Apparently, there is a day labelled as the most depressing day of the year and that day was it. Perhaps part of January’s problem is that it arrives once the decorations are packed away and the permission to slow down seems to vanish overnight. It’s like an unwanted salesman turning up on your doorstep (no offense to salesmen). In December, you’re surrounded by twinkly lights, cheerful music and nobody cares if you’re not sure what day of the week it is. January offers no such mollycoddling. The days are just as short, the weather just as bleak, but suddenly we are expected to be back to normal with an upgrade, if you’ve succumbed to the new year’s resolution. Winter itself hasn’t changed but we suddenly view it in a different light. No wonder it feels arduous. But I started to dissect it apart a bit (I have my husband to thank for that). Why, when I am outside, am I only buoyed by signs of spring, and then summer? It’s the same narrative that you see every time you set foot in a shop.  The next thing is always being promoted - Easter eggs in January, mince pies in August. Why can we never just ‘be’? Maybe it’s time for a different kind of resolution after all. I’ve talked about being present in previous blogs but, admittedly, this is one I am finding very challenging. The madness of Christmas may be over but the cosiness can and should remain. Candles, fairy lights, hot chocolates, log fires are still relevant and I have been embracing these things with gusto this month. I am also accepting that, quite simply, January is a month of rest, a chance to recharge before the new season arrives…..a bit like the natural world. Whilst signs of life are starting to appear in our garden, it is, for the most part, still hibernating.  The heavy and persistent rain is topping up a water table which will hopefully sustain the life that depends on it through a dry summer. The cool, dark days are quietly reminding nature that it is too early to wake from slumber - that survival depends on waiting until things are ‘just right’.  There is a message in there for us too. Our modern lives have driven us further and further away from our innate ‘wildness’.  There is so much pressure to be on and accessible all the time.  If I am not doing something productive during the day, every day, then I feel pangs of guilt. Why? We’re not robots. One of the things I look forward to every January is taking part in the Big Garden Birdwatch, a citizen science initiative run by the RSPB to monitor garden bird populations. I love filling the feeders with a variety of bird-appropriate treats, ensuring there is something for everyone, then quietly retreating to my window with a cuppa in hand. It provides a rare moment of stillness, if the children allow, that feels perfectly in tune with the season.   We recently spent a week in northern Finland, very close to the Arctic Circle. Daylight hours were scarce with the sun rising and setting in about three and a half hours. For the brief time we were there I got a glimpse of how life carried on despite the cold and the darkness. Outdoor activities didn’t cease; they just changed and there seemed to be so much focus on being ‘in nature’.  I also loved the lack of overt commercialism.  Sure, we were in a touristy area but there was a quiet nod to Christmas, rather than a Disney-inspired fanfare. The snow, silence and wilderness provided the magic and I was even treated to snowshoe hare tracks in the snow. Winter wonderlands aside, we can find magical moments in the bleakest (or not!) month of the year. Perhaps the messy pile of leaves and twigs in your garden is sheltering a sleepy hedgehog. Or maybe you’ll be treated to a vocal tawny owl establishing his territory in readiness for spring. What about those branches and twigs that seem devoid of life? Look closely and you’ll see tiny buds starting to appear. If you’re a fellow summer-lover then perhaps you can add this to your next resolution.  You don’t need to ‘like winter’ and there is no guilt in that. But there is space to appreciate it, to move with it and, as always, to be present.   With love,