Winter Calls Me In.
Turning to our inner shelter
Hints of Winter Coming
You know it is there,
thinning calendar pages
hang loose on a wall.
Jobs to be done soon.
leaves shift yellow, orange, red.
I let them lay there.
Spoil the rakes and spare my back,
as warm days fade, cold nights creep.

The transition has become part ritual and part tradition for me. Feelings well up and I feel the need to write each fall about that moment when I realize it’s time to prepare for winter. It’s less about bracing for the season now and more about allowing it to roll in naturally. I watch the leaves pile up in the yard. My wife lets her herb garden go brown. Sunflowers turn to seed heads, feeding the migrating birds. A few weeks ago, I enjoyed watching goldfinches cheeping and chirping happily as they fed.
It’s a process that feels like watching something in slow motion. Between the chores of yard cleanup, there are quiet moments that break up the monotony and remind me to slow down too. We try to let most of the garden settle as it would in the wild. The plants don’t just provide food—they offer shelter for insects and small animals.
Cleanup mostly means uprooting potted plants and piling them up for the compost. Speaking of compost, I encourage everyone to stop raking their leaves—let them break down naturally into the lawn and garden. I’ll help them along with a quick run of the mower or by taking a few wheelbarrow loads to the compost pile.
As for fishing, I might still sneak in a day or two, as long as the sun’s out and there’s no ice on the banks. Those late-season days are special—just me, the stream, and the chance of meeting a willing fish.
Soon my focus shifts toward quieter things. I clean and tidy my backyard shed, put away the camping gear, and straighten my fly-tying bench. I’ll set up a small heater, arrange my meditation cushions, keep a kettle ready for tea, and create a space to settle into. Winter becomes a time for reading, writing, tying flies, and small crafts. This year, I’ll also be learning Japanese—reading, and writing Hiragana, Katakana, Kanji, and learning simple phrases.
Practicing inner peace is an intentional choice. I remind myself not to drift too far into the noise of the outside world, not to let chaos or headlines pull me under. Should I care? Of course, the outside world does matter. But I must maintain a healthy world inside myself.
We must protect our inner peace. Without it, We can’t think clearly or act wisely. I won’t apologize for needing the calm. None of us should. When we let the world’s turmoil rob us of peace of mind, we surrender the very ground we stand on.
I hope that you are also readying yourself for a long and introspective winter.
Yes, it’s a challenge. Speaking up for justice and peace matters deeply. But nothing says we can’t do both—care fiercely and still breathe deeply. Holding both makes us stronger, and a bit wiser, in the choices we make.
So I unplug for a while—to dive back into honesty with myself. To know what’s distraction and what’s worthwhile. To create more, worry less, and build a little more strength and wisdom for the days ahead.
If you enjoyed this bit of writing and would like to help fuel my work in cups of tea or coffeee… just click on the typewriter.


Thanx for sharing…feeling very similar this am as I process the reality of the first freeze and snow in the mtns. I celebrate the universal rhythm of it all and am excited for this season’s spacer and pace! DM incoming for sit down tea time this fall :)