I’m in love with winter again. As a gift from living in the country, I have that kind of time and mind to notice the easily overlooked. I’ve noticed so much more than previous iterations such as bird footprints in the snow, the gaps between creaky floorboards, faint sunshine through smooth grey clouds, and the jam on my child’s cheeks. The kind of things that once you look, they never look the same again.
I’ve learned that feeding the birds is mutually beneficial. They get to socialize and eat. I get free entertainment and pest control. I’ve identified about 30 different bird species that have visited us since the summer. I’ve dived deeper into this pastime through reading “Keep Looking Up” by Tammah Watts. I’ve gone beyond just noticing birds to birding. Much appreciation for my husband gifting me a pair of Nikon binoculars. I’ve been positively changed forever after seeing birds to clearly. Many familiar faces have stayed nearby despite the cold. What a gift it is to never be alone.
I decided to make buttermilk biscuits for my family before they rose one morning. I wanted a warm breakfast in case we lost power. I’m focused on perfecting techniques and flavor profiles of Southern food. So I grabbed a few books from the library on Black chefs and cooking over the weekend. After flipping through the soul comforting pages of “Jubilee”, I settled with a simple classic, biscuits with ham.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never had success with making biscuits from scratch. However, something about this recipe emboldened me to try again. It felt right this time when I mixed it by hand. When I cut the dough with the top of a mason jar and got six perfect circles, I knew they were the chosen ones. For safe measure, blew kisses at my biscuits before placing them into the oven (a little love infusion I do). 15 minutes later, perfect biscuits were in front of me. And they had LAYERS y’all. Layers that melted in your mouth. Who knew I could make biscuits?! I haven’t felt that proud of myself in trying something new in so long.
Needless to say, my husband, son and I ate all six in one sitting. Some with vegan ham slices, some with apple butter, some with mulberry jam gifted from the summer by friends. A very Southern breakfast experience it felt. A blissful start to a day of snowy play.
When we ventured outside, I wore my binoculars and scarf around my neck eagerly. I spotted the pileated woodpecker in a tree. Followed it to the holly tree nearby. Poor thing got chased out by the mockingjay bird and sought refuge in the black walnut tree. Over yonder, I saw the red shouldered hawk perched with fluffed feathers watching over the land. I like to think as them as guardian angels.
The land shimmered brighter than any crystal in a crown. The Crepe Myrtle, once a pink and green blooming tree, now an ice sculpture beaming from the sunshine. I decided to toss out the last of my bird seed onto the snow. The yard looked like sesame covered sushi. Not long after, birds and squirrels alike came to have maybe their only meal of the day.
The snow glittered as birds flittered about. The whole community was at my doorstep. Mourning doves. Blue jays. Titmouse. Finches. Sparrows. Cardinals. Juncos. Chickadees. Red bellied woodpecker. Northern flickers. They didn’t care if we watched them as we threw snowballs or from the living room window. They seemed grateful for food and safe at our home. That’s how I want everyone to feel when they visit.
I hope this letter inspires you to find ways to enjoy this time of the year, inside or out. There are many glimmers to experience in this lifetime. They don’t lie dormant in the winter, so open your mind, heart and belly to the wonders that exist. Hug a loved one so closely, for so long, you can smell the warmth on their neck. Cook a stew all day and eat it all evening. Try to befriend one bird and give it a new name. Who knows, you may start to love winter like me :).
With love blazing bigger than logs in the fireplace,
Carri
Q&A:
Comment below or reply to this email!
What’s your relationship with birds?
Can you make biscuits?
Are you internally experiencing a winter, summer, spring or fall right now?
Complimentary reading:
Dreams of Snow Cream
When you’re from the country, you’re born with the innate ability to sense the weather.
Devoted Daughter to Mother Nature
Alone but in good company, I perch myself on the bottom porch step. I’m eavesdropping on the birds reporting to another how their day went. The breeze is mollifying me better than any weighted blanket. A green spider is preparing dinner. Trees dancing bachata against the sunset. D…
Hello September
Welcome home sweetheart. We’ve finally arrived back at our cozy cottage that’ll keep us warm and safe for the next six months. During this time, we’re blessed with the opportunity of choice. Spring and summer put a lot of pressure on the spirit to do things that felt obligatory. Being forced to suffer underneath the lingering sun and avoid rest out of f…
loved the shots of the birds and the biscuits. thank you for this<3
I used to make mayo drop biscuits back in the day when I had an oven, but i'm really in the mood to have some buttermilk biscuits. my great grandma made them when I was growing up, she's been gone for over 2 decades now. longing for that taste.
I am the daughter of a southern biscuit maker. I hope to one day unlock the gift lying dormant in my dna.