(Or, The Weather is Swell)
“Stories are light. Light is precious in a world so dark. Begin at the beginning. Tell Gregory a story. Make some light.”
~ Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux
Twenty-five years ago, I moved from Fort Worth, Texas to Milwaukee, Wisconsin. The first winter I spent in Milwaukee, the wind chill temperatures fell into the negative 30s. No one had ever told me about such a thing as wind chill, so I called my mother right away in a giddy winter moment and told her that not only did the sun set at 4:30 in the afternoon in Wisconsin in January, but when I walked to the bus stop my coat sounded like paper. I beamed over the phone. “It’s 36 below, Mom!”
She responded with concern, asking the question this kind of conversation always warrants: Why did you move there again?
Harsh winters, dark days, thin Texan blood. Why indeed? For people, for place, for things remembered: for love, adventure, naivety. The why didn’t matter. I was determined to set roots here and in spite of freezing that first winter (and subsequent winters), I experienced a thrill from the invigorating cold, a peace in the quiet of snowfall, a sense of wonder in the lights reflected off a winter frost.
The weather was cold but the landscape beautiful.
Here we are in the month of January and in the thick of winter yet again (though we’re missing the usual amount of snow). Even with the solstice, the sun still rises too slowly and sets too soon, so that I might move through the day in a dark mood–shoulders slumped under hat and scarf and bulky coat, dreaming of light, sunny summer days. But this month casts precious light onto these dark winter days, not only because it’s the start of a new year but because January marks the publication of another anthology of work by the writers of Harwood Place.
Our 2019 anthology (entitled Person, Place, Thing), is filled with essays and poetry that revolve around agents of experience, markers of memory, catalysts in rising emotion. Stories of love and friendship, letters and music, cats and couches, life and home.
With the printing of this anthology, I also celebrate six and a half years of time at the table with these beloved writers. The group has changed along the way, as we’ve welcomed new faces and lost several cherished members. But in voices past and present, their words remain a constant gift throughout the year.
(This year we dedicate the anthology to LaVerne Ferguson, front row far left,
and Mary Lewis, front row far right. Beautiful ladies, amazing writers. We miss you at the table.)
You can listen to the Writers of 2019 read their stories on Saturday, January 26th. We gather in the Community Room at 2pm at Harwood Place (8220 W. Harwood Avenue, Wauwatosa, WI) for an hour of reading and refreshments after. If you’re in town, stop in!
I say it time and again, stories matter. They are light. They are precious. They connect us in word and in thought and remind us that no matter what’s happening, inside or outside, the weather is swell*, as long as I am willing to see the brighter side of things.
