“Books are a uniquely portable magic.”
~ Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
We are gradually returning to routine and turning from our season of hygge.
The cold snap has broken and Gerry has snowshoe treks booked, my weekly study group resumes next week, the season of spending days snuggled in with a quilt and a book are behind us.
Or are they?
There’s snow in the forecast and our snuggly reading socks are still laid out. There’s no reason we can’t squeeze in a few more days of hunkering down.
Yet, even as I write this I sense that the season has passed. We won’t spend the better part of a day with a book–a Sunday afternoon maybe, but not an entire day.
When the snow starts falling I might be tempted to don my flannels and try to recapture the coziness of those last days in December but it won’t be the same.
The season is over. We’re doing a new thing now. And while we may carry with us remnants of those restful days, and even return to them for a few hours, we can’t go back. And that’s okay.