It’s mid January … a time of year in the northern hemisphere when many people struggle with their health and wellbeing … some find it difficult to shake off the low mood sensation of things around them being continually cold, grey, and dark. It wears people down and leaves them with only one desire – to do nothing other than curl up under the duvet and refuse to emerge until spring. These ‘winter blues’ can be indicative of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and if that is the case, then seeking professional help could be the best thing.
I am fortunate not to suffer low mood during the winter months. I could be susceptible, as we all are, but I try to always look after myself and one of the ways I do this is to spend time out of doors. I look to nature - it is my solace and source of comfort.
“Nature heals everything.” 
This was said to me back in the summer last year. A pure statement which I have always sensed to be true, but one I have never vocalised myself or heard stated before by another person in such a simple yet passionate and profound way. It moved me and has stayed with me.
It is natural for me to look to nature to help me cope with life. I can get through winter and ease its tightening grip on my sense of wellbeing by connecting with wildlife. Each morning I commune with the birds watching them feed on the bird-feeders. The sunflower hearts attract the goldfinches, blue tits, sparrows and starlings and the fat balls I throw onto the ground allow the robins, pigeons and blackbirds to join in and have their fill. It’s a joyful and simplistic way for me to begin my day.
Nature in winter is a season of struggle and beauty. We, as part of nature, also struggle and we can so easily forget about our beauty, our soul which is always with us shining steadily, glowing brightly deep within. We become susceptible then to neglecting ourselves, not tending to our wellbeing and succumbing to feelings of sadness and depression.
I combat this by ensuring I get out into nature every day, even if it’s only by opening the door and stepping outside for a few moments. If I do have a day when I can’t get out for as long as I’d like to, even just leaning out of the window and breathing in fresh air helps me.
To be in nature is a sensory experience … for all our senses and our natural body systems and rhythms … we all have an innate emotional affiliation with other living things and it helps to connect … with trees for example, or a winter sky, or the moon … anything that is living energy … it helps us feel less alone, less lonely.
Being out in nature assists in keeping me calm, reduces my anxiety and brings pure joy. Just breathing in the fresh air, looking up to the sky, or focusing solely on a single winter berry brings me to stillness where I can discover peace.
Being with wildlife, especially with birds connects me to a deeper part of myself where I can feel and express my emotions. It’s where I experience beauty outside of myself and inside of myself. Watching any bird can bring me to a place of stillness and harmony … but for my deepest emotional connection … and to fulfil my desire for freedom … I search the skies for birds in flight. When I ride my bike and there are birds flying with me, something magical and mystical happens … and I discover my sacred place.
My bird of winter at the moment is the crow. I have noticed especially this winter that when I ride, I am often accompanied by crows, moving with me through the huge lavender-grey skies we have here in Norfolk. When they are flying above, around and alongside me, my heart swells and I feel so happy.
On a recent bike ride, a single crow remained with me as I cycled along, when all the others had departed and flew over the landscape and away to the distant horizon. This solitary crow stayed with me and inspired me to write this poem and craft the collage you see above. Creating in this way brings me great joy in the process of making art … and I know whenever I look at my collage or read my poem, I will always remember my bike rides with the crows and the one crow who was my companion.
The Last Thing
What if you were a single darkening
crow among others and a woolly wind
blew you away and there you were alone
with few feathers, a floundering heart
and an edgy, endless sky before you.
Then, what if you fell, caw, caw, cawing
to the ground to find yourself
fluttering on a mattress of burnt-brown
leaves and the trees around you were
softly still and soulfully breathing.
And what if you listened to the trees,
learnt to let go of your feathers
accepting all that is and is not yours,
then gave yourself permission to rest
on the Earth that keeps offering itself.
You could pause there for eternity
as more leaves float down to cover you.
You could welcome the last thing to happen
to us all, as if it were just a beginning.
You could open your chest and fly
away into a heavenly lightening sky
LyndyH 