Everything is beautiful in its season; and there is a beauty in every season of the year. God has for wise ends appointed the succession of summer and winter. The fruitfulness of the earth, and the health of man are consulted thereby. The cold of the winter purifies the air…. And the snow, produc’ by the cold, not only waters the earth, but cherishes it, and makes it to bring forth.

William Cooper, “A Winter Sermon,” 18th Century

EPHEMERIS FOR THE FIRST WEEK OF DEEP WINTER
THE SIXTH WEEK OF THE NATURAL YEAR
The Tufted Titmouse Moon, full on December 31, wanes through its third quarter in the first week of January, entering its final phase on January 7 at 5:40 a.m.

Venus is not visible this month; look for it in the evening sky at the end of February. Saturn lies in Virgo, rising after midnight. Jupiter is low in the west at sundown, and red Mars follows giant Orion through the night in Cancer.

Deep Winter usually has six major cold waves, and it lasts from the 1st through the 25th of January. The first of those the Deep Winter high-pressure systems is due today; the second ordinarily arrives on the 5th. Average temperatures in this season are the lowest of the year. Few visible changes in fauna and flora take place.

DAYBOOK FOR THE FIRST WEEK OF DEEP WINTER
January 1: Deep winter, the coldest period of the year, begins today and lasts until January 26. Collards, kale, and well-mulched carrots and beets can survive to this point in season, but January’s cold spells eventually take them.

January 2nd: Weasels could be active around your chicken house – their five-toed tracks occurring in pairs. And listen for great horned owl calls in the night; those owls begin to mate in January cold.

January 3rd: Zeitgebers (events in nature that tell the time of year) for this week include occasional sightings of foxes and coyotes frolicking at night in their mating rituals, starlings and sparrows scouting for nesting areas in and around your eaves. In warmer years, the tips of crocus, snowdrop and hyacinth leaves push up through the leaves.

January 4th: One third of winter's cold fronts have come across the United States by today, and today is also Plough Monday, the traditional beginning of the farm and garden season.

January 5th: As the year’s second major front approaches, milder temperatures and more precipitation are likely; thunderstorms are not uncommon in the South. After the January 5th high passes through, however, the cold returns with a vengeance, and the 8th and 9th are associated with some of the most chilling weather so far in the winter.

January 6th: Only five weeks remain until Chinese New Year (February 14). Plan on marketing your sheep or goats in the 60 to 80-pound range to this market. And Mardi Gras comes just two days later – be ready to serve that market too with everything from beads to livestock! If you don’t have sheep or goats, just plan to celebrate the approach of Early Spring around those dates.

January 7th: As the Tufted Titmouse Moon enters its final quarter, you should be getting ready for your new-moon planting. You could even be putting seeds in the soil starting on the 10th since lunar tradition allows you to seed your plants throughout the dark moon time.

January 8th: Test a sample of old seeds for germination. Order supplies for February pasture seeding. Consider frost-seeding the lawn, too.

WINTER FEVER
In the weeks after Christmas, I often fill my list books with fresh schedules. Sometimes, I put the whole year out before me, with projects for every month. Sometimes, though, I waver between dreams of the future and the myopia of hibernation.

On the one hand, I can count, if I choose, all the steps to spring. Everything lies out in promises so rich and sweet. Now dawn is coming earlier for the first time since June. In a few days, my gnomon will actually measure the turn of the earth toward April; the sunlight will fall just a little lower on my far north wall.

The year past, which ended with the collapse of the final autumn foliage, is already five weeks old. The dark morning sky already prophesies the summer: An hour before sunrise, Orion has set. Sirius has moved deep into the west, Cancer and Gemini following it. The Big Dipper is overhead. June‘s Arcturus is coming in from the east, and August’s Vega has risen in the northeast

This week, the titmice will call. In two weeks, the owls will court, in three weeks the crows will become restless, in four weeks, the cardinals will sing, in five weeks the doves will sing, in six weeks, the skunk cabbage will be open, in seven weeks the sap will run in the maples, in eight weeks snowdrops will bloom, in nine weeks, the pussy willows will open, and then the aconites, and then the finches will turn gold. There is hardly time to get ready.

On the other hand, winter fever – like spring fever – short circuits my ambitions. It convinces me to stretch out like the cats in front of the wood stove, to remain unthinking and still, to retreat into the moment, to be here alone and rest and sleep. There is challenge enough to come, the fever tells me: conflict, passion, pain, encounter. The road ahead is fast and wide, cluttered and loud; the end is certain and hard. I should stay here and be cleansed and cherished. Winter is an angel, my body says; winter lasts forever; hide beneath its wings.

Bill Felker