Over the years, I’ve grown to love winter. But I’m not naive. My love of the season is a luxury afforded to me in part because I live in Virginia, a place where winter is, by comparison to where I grew up (Michigan, Wyoming, Pennsylvania) fairly gentle. A place where snowfall is fleeting and thus to be savored. A place where cold weather is routinely broken up by random warm days, and I scour the ten-day forecast for any chance of snow. A place where winter is reliably short—where it won’t snow on the blossoming tulips in April.
I enjoy winter trees—the green hollies heavy with festive red berries, the way barren branches open the view to wide winter skies, vibrant blue or steely gray or alive with the myriad ephemeral colors of sunset or sunrise, in summer partially obscured by foliage.
Winter seems to open our mental horizons, too, prompting us to look both ahead and behind. We resolve to drop old habits like dead leaves, hoping to pick up new ones like fresh buds. Winter is a season of paradox, hibernation and fresh starts, rest and kinetic energy.
As I reflect on 2025 with the wisdom and clarity of hindsight—looking at its winter horizon cleared of all its detritus, I can see it was a year of first times and new things for me. In my teaching life, I tried several new lessons and methods in my classroom and began teaching under new SOL standards. In my writing life, I joined a newly formed writing club, made new friends, and tried my hand at writing historical fiction for the first time. In my personal life, I learned (am still learning) to trim Archie’s beak and nails, participated in possum yoga for the first (and second) time, and flew on an airplane with The Littles (or any dogs, ever) for the first time.
Looking ahead to 2026 in its winter horizon, still clear and fresh and open, it seems as if it will continue in this vein, as I look forward to guiding my first mindfulness writing workshop with both human and animal co-teachers. The first session is January 24. I hope I’ll see you there. Until then, I will enjoy this liminial space between Christmas and the new year, embracing the ending of one year and the start of another.
The fun part was writing the manuscript. Even revising the manuscript has been more fun than what I’m currently working on: drafting query letters. These single-page documents are more arduous writing tasks than almost anything else I have ever written in my life (next to a synopsis, which is equally onerous). One might think: You write 80,000-word manuscripts and long-form articles, how hard can a 300- or 400-word query letter be? Well, there’s a reason I stick to 80,000-word manuscripts and long-from articles: Brevity is not, nor has it ever been, nor will it likely ever be, my strong suit. Wish me luck. Send good vibes. Pray for me. I need it all.
In 2026, I’ll be leading a series of mindfulness writing classes with Dawn Deiman of Rising Dawn Yoga Studio. Our first workshop will focus on the sense of taste and will be co-hosted by a Virginia opossum! It’s scheduled for January 24 at Possum-Bilities Gift Shop and Gallery in historic Fredericksburg, Virginia. A percentage of the $28 registration fee will benefit animals in the care of wildlife rehabilitators, and participants are also asked to bring an item to donate to the rescue. Space is limited, so if you’d like to join us, sign up today. I’d love to write with you!
My latest outdoors piece, “Walking in a Winter Wonderland: What to know and where to go for winterime hiking,” discusses one of my favorite things about winter: taking a hike. My next piece, focused on possum yoga, isn’t due until February, but I’ve been working on it on and off since early October.
I enjoyed a festive white elephant gift exchange and make-your-own pizza party with my writing friends in Prose and Cons earlier this month, and look forward to reading more of their work in the coming year.
I’m enjoying Brandon Sanderson’s Tress of the Emerald Sea and the ARC of Joyce Miller’s Mrs. Gari Melchers, available for pre-order now. I’ll likely finish reading the latter very soon. Perhaps today.
My most recent piece, “Walking in a Winter Wonderland: What to know and where to go for wintertime hiking,” appears in the January/February issue of Cooperative Living Magazine.
“Welcome Home,” a story I wrote about Archie, appears in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Pets, Pets, Pets.
I can’t even. Soda is cute beyond words. And I’m usually pretty good with words.
Nacho snuggles with a squeaky, plush mug of hot chocolate, one of the (many, many) toys he and Soda got for Christmas.
Archie all tucked into his raggy bone toy for an afternoon nap
Archie on Christmas Eve
All bundled up, The Littles enjoy a winter morning walk.
Sycamore balls hang from a tree like so many Christmas ornaments.
Sunset on a Saturday stroll with The Littles and a friend
Sunrise as I drove to work on a recent morning
Sunset from our backyard
Wild Senses: A Mindful Creative Writing Workshop
January 24, 2026 | 10am-12pm | Possumbilities, Fredericksburg, VA
Join me and Dawn Deiman (Meditation & Mindfulness Teacher) for a guided workshop where, through creative writing, mindfulness, and meditation, you’ll engage one of your five senses. This first class will focus on the sense of taste, with future workshops featuring each of the remaining four senses. Awesome Possumz will be in attendance with one of their Possum Ambassadors to help you explore the sense of taste, something this animal is an expert in!
$28 per person, plus a donated wishlist item (see list of requested items)
Ages 18+
Percentage of ticket sales donated to Awesome Possumz
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.