It was so familiar: watching flakes fall from darkness to pale earth, spinning, a sight that will make you dizzy if you stare too long; the lightness of fresh, powdery snow underfoot; silver glitters in the new snowdrifts; paths trodden with iced-preserved footprints and pawprints; week-old snow frozen hard with subzero temperatures, too slick to walk on. I watched the snow highlight every branch and twig of the woods, like a white pencil outlining the sketch of dancers mid-motion, before the snow dropped off and left them gray and bare again. I felt the cold of negative temperatures, burning on the face and pulsing painfully in the fingertips, so fierce that returning to the 20s Fahrenheit felt balmy by comparison.

Nashville winters, someone told me, are usually “doom and gloom” – temperatures in the 30s and 40s with dark rainclouds. This past week, which shut down every major activity, would have been respectable in many northern states (except maybe Montana). I have dug deep snow tunnels in New Hampshire, driven on the ice rink of freezing rain in Maine, and watched ice turn trees into wonders of blown glass in Massachusetts, but I was not prepared for such weather here.

This part of winter is usually hard for me between the twinkling merriment of Christmas and the green of spring is so far away. Every year, I try to find ways to enjoy this season as cozy and romantic. It is, after all, a gift to be able to curl up in a soft blanket with a good book in hand and a candle burning, as the world sleeps outside.

Here are a few books I’m enjoying as warmer temperatures melt the snow:

All the Lost Places, by Amanda Dykes – I heard Amanda Dykes on several podcasts I follow and appreciated her thoughtful, gentle insights on writing and publishing. This book is a wonder. It has the eloquence and depth of the genre known as “literary fiction,” but instead of the despair I’ve encountered in other literary fiction books, it radiates hope and goodness. From the foggy streets of San Francisco to the glimmering canals and labyrinthine alleys of Venice, the book traces two lovable main characters whose stories are stitched together across time. Daniel of 1904 is bent under a load of guilt and shame; Sebastian of 1807 struggles to solve the riddle of his past and a stranger swept to his doorstep out of a storm. Discovering a new author who has published a stack of books is a rare delight, and I am excited to explore Amanda’s other stories.

A History of Tom Jones, A Foundling, by Henry Fielding – I read about this book in Karen Swallow Prior’s book, On Reading Well: Finding the Good Life Through Great Books, in which she examines how works of fiction can teach us to understand and and practice virtue. She uses Tom Jones as an example of understanding prudence. I loved tracing the main character’s path from foolishness to prudence, recklessness to wisdom, and exile to home in this book. It’s very long, bawdier than I expected (think the cruder aspects of Shakespeare, and then step up a level), full of mock-epic moments and exaggerated references to classical myth, and does feature some significant wrongdoings by the hero. I caught myself saying out loud, “Tom, no, you dummy!” at various intervals. There are, however, realistic consequences for bad behavior, and a tone of love and understanding that makes me glad to have finished it.

Summer Lightning, by P.G. Wodehouse – I picked up this book to follow along with the “Close Reads” podcast. Wodehouse is new to me, and the ridiculous, overly complicated, earnest, and chaotic exploits of his characters are an absolute joy. Watching various people at a country house try to outdo each other in stealing things, impersonating other people, falling in love, making and breaking engagements, and sometimes outright blackmail, where no one really gets hurt and all good desires are fulfilled in the end, feels very safe in this uncertain world. 

The Silver Chair, by C.S. Lewis – For a few years now, I have stayed away from some of my most beloved series – the Chronicles of Narnia, the Harry Potter series, and The Lord of the Rings – because I wanted to forget them enough to come back and find them fresh and new. I decided to reread this book, my favorite Narnia book, because it’s a text for two online courses I’m taking: a medieval cosmology course by Kelly Cumbee and a creative writing course by Jonathan Rogers. I’m very familiar with the excellent radio drama version by Focus on the Family, but this time, I listened to this audiobook version by Jeremy Northam, which was wonderful. Each book in the series has a different reader, including Kenneth Branagh for The Magician’s Nephew and Patrick Stewart for The Last Battle. 

I love The Silver Chair so much. I deeply identify with Jill’s struggle to obey Aslan; I love the perilous wanderings across the wild north; I burst out laughing multiple times at Puddleglum’s cheerfully dour sayings. Best of all, Jeremy Northam’s voice for the audiobook emphasized the kindly humor of C.S. Lewis’s prose asides in the text – those thoughtful, sympathetic comments about how you feel in certain situations, like sitting by the fire late at night, too tired to do the hard work of going to bed.

Now that Nashville’s dark rainclouds have returned and melted the snow, I can go on walks again, slipping in the mud and letting raindrops slip through my hair. I don’t think I’ll ever fully enjoy this time of year, but I can appreciate the grim, quiet, atmospheric beauty of wild winds, stormy skies, and steady rain.