Undertow

After a month of more than 50 shades of grey, we finally had some sun today. And thus also frost. I hope the garlic and the Jerusalem artichoke I planted yesterday will make it until spring. I trust the book from the Mandelmann family "Självhushållning på Djupadal" (Self-sufficiency at Djupadal) that says it should be planted late in the season. Apparently some seeds such as lavender and verbena, also need a frost nip in order to kick-start the chemical processes that leads leaves and flowers. 

Maybe that's also the case with some people and some relationships. They need to get really cold to have a chance to survive long-term and not just rot.

They say that this winter will be very cold, because of the warm ocean. I hope that will entail snow. And lots of it. Winter becomes so much endurable with the bright snow and the prospect of skiing even in the south of Sweden where I live.

Snow also muffles the sounds and you long to cuddle in the sofa looking at an open fire, or, in my case, at lots of candles. Two songs come to mind, from Genesis' record "And Then There Were Three": Snowbound, of course, but also Undertow.

Better think awhile

Or I may never think again

If this were the last day of your life, my friend

Tell me, what do you think you would do then?

Stand up to the blow that fate has struck upon you

Make the most of all, you still have coming to you

Lay down on the ground and let the tears run from you

Crying to the grass and trees and heaven finally on your knees

Let me live again, let life come find me wanting

Spring must strike again against the shield of winter

Let me feel once more the arms of love surround m
Telling me the danger's past, I need not fear the icy blast again