Savoring Simple daily pleasures
It’s hard to believe we’re already halfway through the year. Somehow, the weeks keep folding into months with surprising speed, and yet again I find myself pausing to take note of where we are—both in time and in season.
For those of us in the Southern Hemisphere, it’s winter now. While the chill is milder than years past, we’re still layering up: pulling out our wooliest merino, wrapping ourselves in trench coats and scarves, and watching as breath fogs in the early morning light. But the strange beauty of this time is the awareness that elsewhere—perhaps where much of our family and friends reside—it’s the height of summer. Blistering heat, sun-drenched beaches, and ripe berries bursting on vines.
It’s a quiet contrast that always encourages me to check in with myself. To pause. To take stock not just of the weather, but of the pace I’ve fallen into. It’s easy to get swept up in longing—wishing for warmer days, lighter clothes, longer evenings. But I’ve come to realize that this gentle ache for another season, another pace, is also an invitation: to be more present. To savor the now.
Because soon enough, we’ll be reaching for those airy linen shirts and floaty summer dresses. We’ll wait until the sun dips low to go walking, biting into juicy peaches and plums, and planning weekends at the beach. That time will come. Just as surely as the rain falls today and the morning light arrives later than we’d like.
So while I love seeing sun-soaked posts from across the globe—images of turquoise seas, overflowing farmers markets, and curated "beach bag essentials"—I’m also gratefully soaking in this quiet moment. I’m sipping hot lemon water made with a lemon gifted from a colleague’s tree. Outside, the rain drums softly on the roof and trickles from the gutters. Inside, there’s the hush of a cozy morning, punctuated only by the gentle tap of my keyboard.
It’s a reminder that each season brings its own rhythm and its own gifts. The golden glow of summer, yes—but also the slow simmer of winter. The introspection. The nesting. The joy of soup bubbling on the stove and the comfort of wrapping yourself in something warm.
To wish away winter because it’s cold or dark is, in some small way, to wish away our days. And our days are what make up our years—our lives. They’re all here to be lived, savored, and celebrated for what they are. Not what we want them to become.
So whether you’re soaking up sun or watching raindrops race down the windowpane, I hope you find time to slow down and savor the season you’re in. Because it's beautiful, just as it is. And it's yours, just for now.
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