Winter Village

A crescent ray of filtered sunlight peeps in through the upstairs bedroom window.

Languid, lazy stretches; it’s cozy under the heavy heirloom quilt. I doze a bit longer, enjoying the peace and quiet, until the calico cat frisks and pounces on my moving foot, forcing me to get up and begin the day.

Soft, fluffy slipper socks wait next to the pine wood nightstand. Quilt-warmed feet are toasty padding down the narrow stairs; the familiar creak at the fifth step from the bottom is comforting.

Snow!

A light snow has fallen in the night, coating the garden and the stone fence with a sparkly spunkiness that beckons a walk to the village.

But first, coffee!

The warm, comforting coffee scent permeates the chilly kitchen. Crispy bacon on toast sounds delicious this snow-bright morning—just enough until I make my way to Penny’s Pastries in the village square.

The watery sunlight filtering through the slowly building clouds begs for knee-high snow boots, the puffed navy-blue snow jacket and thick, red tartan scarf, navy gloves, and a beanie. Festive and snug!

The fluffy white cat lounges in his cardboard box bed on the end of the couch, watching sleepily as I don my winter apparel. He is quite happy to lie about for the morning, nestled down on the red fleece blanket tucked into the box.

Wrapped up and warm, I venture into the pretty snow-covered garden and out the creaky, wooden gate to begin my snowy adventure.

More snow than I realize has fallen during the night. The way it gently drifts and pillows the lane into the village square is lovely and inviting—that satisfying snow-crunch underfoot.

Winking, colorful Christmas lights add a festive sparkle to the windows of Della’s Curio Shoppe on the corner. Antique Christmas decorations and assorted glass bowls filled with hard candies invite one to step inside and browse the eclectic trinkets. A calming scent of vanilla, fir, and old things tease the senses. A jolly-looking antique snowman catches my eye. Carefully wrapped trinket in hand, I venture on into the village.

The small group of well-bundled carolers gracing the entrance to the old stone church sing with gusto as they nod a greeting to those who stop to listen. Their blending sopranos and altos swirl up and away into the wintry air on frosted breath. A wistful sigh of nostalgia brushes against me as I remember Christmases past with caroling, hot cocoa, and festive holiday laughter…the anticipation of Christmas Eve and the Greatest gift to mankind.

Ah! Penny’s Pastries!

The scent of baking, heady and delicious, wafts from the wreathed door as patrons come and go, leaving a path in the powdery snow. Will she have fresh cream currant scones? She does! I settle myself, the scone, and some steamy Winter Blend tea at a rustic table near the windows. People watching!

Across the square, Nadia’s Toys & Treasures is doing brisk business this morning! The festive window display draws in the strolling families as they watch the model train set navigate the miniature hills and tunnels covered in flakey snow. Tiny sheep and cattle settled on the snowy fields watch its progress. Wide-eyed children beg to go in and see where that tiny train goes on its round-and-round journey. Adventure!

Kitty-corner is Bea’s Nifty Notions n’ Such, serving the sew-ers, knitters, and crafters of the village. Brightly colored holiday ribbons, soft knit hats, mittens, and a plump Mrs. Claus at an antique sewing machine, adorn her display windows. It reminds me of my mother and grandmother—their beautiful handmade gifts and crafts so lovingly created. Two older ladies with bright purple hats and matching scarves bustle out the door. The holiday-themed bags are filled with supplies for their next sewing project.

The clock-tower bells chime the hour with a deep, silvery gong. How time flies! There is more to see, so I head out into the bustling square.

Lunchtime!

Next stop, Lazzaro’s Deli. A prosciutto, ham, and Swiss cheese sandwich with a few swipes of golden mustard, thin-sliced red onion, a splash of balsamic and olive oil, just a touch, mind, and some plump grapes accompany me on a hike up the hill behind the village. There is a small grove of pines at the top where adventurous children haul their sleds and all varieties of hand-made sliding contraptions to fly down the slope—yelping, shouting, and having a splendid time. Freedom and flight!

Weathered pine picnic tables are scattered around the grove for year-round picnickers, each table with a view of the sledders and village below. What a pleasant way to spend the afternoon. Memories pop up of climbing the hill at night with thermoses of hot cocoa and Baileys to look at the village adorned in Christmas lights. Spellbinding!

A quick brindle dog and large German Shepherd dash through the grove, pouncing and digging in the snow in search of the ball they have been fetching. While the dogs are busy, their owners pull out their picnic, hoping to get in a few bites before the ball is found. The dog-kicked and flung snow comes dangerously close to my table. Laughing, I take that as my signal to head back down the hill.

Crisp, pine-scented, wintry air tousles my hair, peeping out from under the beanie. Filling my lungs with the cold air is so invigorating! I’m alive and well on this wonderful day.

At the edge of the village, I change course and walk the lesser traveled side lanes. The snow drifts are deeper here but still navigable. The sun begins an early descent in the mountains, and the shadows grow longer. The fading, muted light is a bit eerie as clouds move in and hover lower in the winter sky. An unmistakable feeling of snow.

The quaint and tumbled houses are pretty with their covers of snow and puffing chimneys. Safe and homey. A group of children jostle out one of the doors and into the nearby field, pummeling each other with snowballs. Shouts and whoops of laughter break up the quiet.

Heading to the left, I follow the lane running along the banks of a stream. It passes from the hills through the village and out and beyond. Normally noisy and full of life, the quietening of winter renders it silent and still, as if in a deep and restful sleep. As I cross the sturdy stonework bridge spanning the iced-over stream, it broadens out into a wide, gentle lake frozen into the perfect ice-skating rink. Ordering a large hot cocoa from the festive concessions stand, I grab a seat on one of the nearby benches.

Dinnertime!

The Aberdeen Café and Mama’s Diner fill up with hungry shoppers and families who need a quick refuel and rest before ice skating begins. I’m happy I have half a sandwich left over from lunch. Trekking up and down the hill made me hungry. As the heat from the hot cocoa leaches into my chilly hands, I gaze around the square at the beautifully lit fir tree with its merry winking lights and lovely lit-up angel at the top. I imagine a dark starry night long ago when angels’ songs announced the arrival of Hope.

With dinner finished, the brave and adventurous head out onto the ice. They are all in top form! Some glide by with calm, happy smiles, while others slip along with mouths formed into a nervous O as they precariously zip and zing across the ice. There will be more than a few sore bums and knees before the night is over.

The village is festive and welcoming with its lovely lights and lit greenery. I hesitate to head home yet, but it’s been a long day. The coziness of my aunt and uncle’s cottage, with the crackling fire they will have blazing, beckons me to go on home.

Finishing the hot cocoa, I take another look at the cheerful shops and happy skaters. What a lovely day!

I scoop up my package from the curio shop and make my way along the darkening lane to the cottage. As I walk and breathe in the frigid night air, gentle snow begins to fall on the winter village. The large fluffy flakes are soft and gentle. So peaceful. I marvel at the way they flutter and float on the wintry night air, each going their own way. There is a deliberateness to the random way they descend and find their landing place. Each one with a specific spot that adds to the piling snow drifts—each one needed. I imagine the Creator’s joy and excitement as each one is uniquely crafted and thought out. Humanity isn’t so different from these beautiful snowflakes.

Turning onto Lakeview Lane, I pause to take in the cottage before heading inside. So lovely, the way it sparkles and winks, white lights outlining its edges and curves, smoke gently chuffing from the stone chimney. Inviting. Lovely memories of my day in the village are safely tucked away as snowy peace descends on the winter village.

Photo credit: Pixabay

Winter Morning

Winter Morning

The sun hasn’t risen up over the foothills yet. My bedroom is dark and in the piles of blankets on my bed I feel cocooned, warm and cozy. There is a cat, possibly two, curled and softly purring at the foot of the bed. I gingerly wiggle and stretch my feet; either cat could wake and attack my moving foot at any time.

Time to get up – there’s lovely hot coffee to make and sip in the quiet, peaceful morning of a silent house. Calm. Soothing.

Coffee in hand, the heat from the mug soaks into my chilly fingers. It feels homey, nostalgic and something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. Anticipation? Expectation?

The lights from the Christmas tree and mantle glow softly and cheerfully in the still-dark living room. The rustic, wooden nativity scene is backlit with a sweet, warm glow from the tiny lights strung along the small side table where it resides. My mind wanders and contemplates all that this sweet and simple scene portray. A Savior born, a young mother’s joy and fear, shepherds’ awe and angel voices. Miracles. Redemption. Love.

A deep fog descended in the early hours of the morning. All is shrouded, misty and ethereal. Sounds are muffled and muted. I still my breathing for just a moment trying to hear the morning bird song and squirrel rustlings through the damp air. All is silent. It’s beautiful, disconcerting and mysterious. I feel all of that in my chest, my mind, and my spirit.

Sipping the warm coffee, I allow my mind to wander, and memories begin to surface. So many memories filter into my mind around the holidays. Ones that are tucked up and away out of sight for most of the year but resurrected as Fall approaches, melds and blends into the frenetic pace and high expectations of Winter holidays. As much as I long for the nostalgia, beauty and excitement of the holidays, there lingers and flits along the periphery those feelings that aren’t so merry and  bright. Ones that call to mind Dr offices, hospitals, blindsiding loss and hurt, dashed expectations and lack luster merriment. There are, of course, the happy, joyful, lovely memories that come out and bring smiles, laughter and warm nostalgic feelings, but they are not alone, and the memories vie for prominence in my mind.

Looking out my back window at the swirly, wisping fog it feels disorienting and unfamiliar, yet beautiful in the covering quietness. I feel safe and wrapped up.

Stepping outside, the brisk chill of the damp air is startling. Breathing deeply, the cold air zings and stings my lungs. Invigorating. Through the mist I see light seeping through as the sun makes its ascent and the rays forge a path in the gloom. It’s calming. It brings a sense of order and relief that not all is murky and diminished; that night and darkness will not last forever – the Light is on its way.  

The Light pierces through the veils of murky shadows and brings hope, joy and comfort. I imagine the awe, fear, anticipation and great hope that the first Light brought to the hills of a sleepy little village so many, many years ago. A Light full of joyful celebration, promises, hope and protection. That Light is still here. It shines, pierces and breaks though fog, darkness and the high, often unattainable expectations we crave during the holiday season.

The Light shows us that hard, sad and lonely memories can co-exist with joy, peace, living in the moment, and merriment. The Light calms the swirling expectations with a peace that passes all understanding. Dark crevices of memory are illuminated with healing and comfort when we give the Light permission to enter into it with us. He was there when the hurts happened. He has never left. He understands where the deep need and high expectations come from, and He delights with us in the silly, happy, fun times that bring joy and a smile to our faces. And He brings hope, so much hope that tells us we are not alone and all will be well. Emmanuel, God with us. The Light in the darkness, Prince of Peace, Mighty Counselor. Always, everywhere and in every season.

Book Release! Divine Appointments…

DIVINE APPOINTMENTS…IS LIVE – published and ready to go on Amazon as eBook/Kindle or paperback! It will soon be available at Barnes & Noble online, Books a million, Thriftbooks, Walmart and other online retailers. I cannot wait for you to get a copy in your hands and let me know what you think!!!

Please share and help me get the word out 🙂 You can visit my author page on FB @MelissaGiomiauthor and IG: @melissa.giomi

I am thankful and honored that so many of you have been on this author journey with me for the past 2 years. It means more to me than you know to have support, encouragement and prayers for this book and Divine Encounters…to accomplish what God has planned for them. It has been such a fun and exciting journey and I’m hopeful there are more books to come 🙂

Cheers and happy reading!

The Cabin

SPRING

Bright morning with clean, clear air; the smell of new growth is rejuvenating.

Light and promising, the still early sharpness of new Spring dances on the light breeze.

A cup of English Breakfast tea with bacon on toast sits with me on the high deck overlooking the meadow that soon blends into the forest.

I smile and greet the flowers dotting the meadow below me with their heavy, waving heads; their pale colors teasing at the intensity to come.

Welcome Spring!

Green-yellow shoots of new grass force their way up through the gentle earth, stretching and coming alive under the light yellow sun.

The morning is already noisy; full of life; energetic.

The happy creek is splashing and rushing in full force; water from melted snow forcing its way down the mountain; tender reeds and cattails making a brave show of guarding the greening banks.

Birds have been up since dawn, delighting in the awakening bugs, fallen seeds and promises of good things to come.

It is time to hike; time to get out there and discover the hidden gems, which are just awakening and coming to life after a long winter of silent sleep.

The ground is still soft and springy, pliant under my slightly muddy boots.

Brisk walking, blood is pumping; alert for woodland creatures also enjoying the new birth and tender delicacies all around.

The shining lake seems happy; full to the brim with birds and creatures and bugs galore, busily gorging on Spring’s buffet; the light breeze ruffling the water; this lifts the soul.

Pleasant afternoon turns to cool evening; sun going down.

Sunset on the deck during the evening meal of pasta and salad with lemony iced tea; lovely.

Forest quieting; night falling.

SUMMER

Rising early to savor the cool of the morning; the sun is peeking over the tree tops.

Ginger Peach tea with granola, fresh fruit and yogurt accompany me to the deck.

Hello Summer!

It’s a lazy morning; creatures are up and stirring, but the pace is less frenetic.

The babble of the creek has taken on a more languid pace and I can just make out some footprints along its bank. Raccoon? Skunk?

Birds call and swoop; coaxing young ones to take flight; bugs and other delicacies brought to the wide, young mouths waiting inside downy nests.

Meadow flowers and grasses are tall now; twisting and dipping in the warming, lazy breeze.

The pace is certainly slower.

It’s time to layer up for the hike. Pleasant now, but the afternoon promises to be warm and close.

Canteens of water, beach towel, swim suit. To the lake!

Cool mountain water zings the skin and wakes up the senses after that first daring plunge!

Warm, drowsy, pine scented air creates the perfect backdrop for napping on the old beach towel.

Memories of camping and outdoor adventures flit though the mind as I gently doze.

Sleepy and comfy.

Watching and listening to scurrying, rustling sounds in the reeds by the lake; family of ducks skimming the lake for water bugs, tiny frogs and dangling berry bushes.

Duck family leaves behind ripples that spiral outward toward the shore.

Heading back to fire up the grill; lovely night to bar b que and drink chilled white wine as the sun goes down, leaving a fiery trail on the horizon.

Sun has set; here come the marshmallows, grahams and chocolate bars.

The evening is still and pleasant; perfect for S’mores and stories.

Forest quieting; night falling.

AUTUMN

A chill in the morning air; sleepy sun pushes over the horizon; animals stirring.

Hot coffee with cream; warm oatmeal with brown sugar, golden butter and walnuts heads out to the deck with me.

Cheers, Autumn!

The chair is cool to the touch.

Warm hoodie and long yoga pants are just right for this crisp morning.

Warm, but less intense sun light filters down through the beginning to be bare branches, leaving a warm impression. Lovely.

The air has that certain and distinctive Fall scent to it of browning leaves, dusty earth, crisp air that isn’t quite ready to mellow into deep winter. The comforting scent of pine.

The creek water pushes on, but with a slower gurgle; a gentle flow. Animal tracks at the edges; areas that are flattened down from what remains of a creature bed.

There are resilient, strong, stubborn grasses and flowers that are not yet ready to relax; that persist and bring color to a waning meadow and forest.

Time to hike.

Hiking in Autumn demands layers.

The warmer meadow where the sun still reaches and pours warmth onto backs and shoulders; then deeper into the woods with that unmistakable chill of the forest; fresh and chill it demands a bit faster pace to keep comfortable.

That lovely, primal scent of pine.

Boots kick up a bit of dust; that leftover pliant earth from Spring.

The lake is restful; last vestiges of birds calling and making their Southward plans.

A bit too chilly for a dip in the calm water.

A calm and peaceful place to sit among fallen leaves and turning grasses and read, until the Autumn sun begins its descent.

Chipmunks and fluffy grey squirrels are chattering; roaming the branches and fallen leaves for those precious seeds and nuts that will be hidden away.

Scurrying and intent on seeking and finding provision.

Winter is coming.

The lit grill gives off welcome warmth; as aromas of grilling vegetables and juicy steaks fill the air around the cozy cabin. Potatoes are baking in the oven.

Red wine with dinner on the deck; sunlight fading; S’mores make their last appearance of the season.

A warm fire might be nice tonight.

Forest quieting; night falling.

WINTER

Blankets feel so warm in the cold morning; is it time to get up?

All is quiet outside the cabin. The watery sun seems to be struggling, too.

Rise and grab long, warm, heavy sweatpants and sweatshirt plus thick fuzzy socks.

First, hot coffee with cream; the mug sends warmth to already chilled hands.

Stoking up the fire again; warmth begins to infuse the chilly cabin.

Ah, Winter! You’ve arrived!

Second cup of steaming coffee accompanies me to the deck.

I have to smell the freezing, chill air; so brisk it takes the breath away.

There it is!  That crisp and lovely scent of pine. Refreshing!

Nowhere to sit with the coffee, since the chairs are covered in ice.

Brave birds cover the bird feeder and relish the seeds I’ve put there for them; fluffed feathers making them look like plump, roly poly little things.

More coffee, eggs, sausage and toast go with me to the little table by the window, as I watch the winter morning unfold.

Fire crackling well now; should last for a bit.

Donning hat, gloves, scarf, heavy jacket, boots; out I go to brave the cold and see the meadow and forest that winter has created.

No one is really out and about this morning.

Evidence of creature activity is all around, but those brave souls must already be back in warm, earthy dens; watching me from hollowed out logs or nests in tree branches; wondering at the sight of me.

Trudging on for a bit; breathing in the wintry, piney air; chilled nose, ears and chin; time to turn back.

The idea of a warm blanket, hot water with lemon, comfy slipper socks by the fire with my book is too strong of a call.

Shedding layers and climbing under the blanket, I relax and am swept away by the book.

Clouds have rolled in while I read. Brisk wind crept up and is rattling bare branches. Colder.

Dinner tonight will be hot bubbling soup and warm bread that I took a break from reading to prepare.

Back under the blanket, watching the fire, I hear the shushing sound of ticking snow on the deck.

Tomorrow morning will be white.

The forest is quiet; night has fallen on the cabin.