Winter Apple
see it become a solitary roundness against a greying sky
A celebration of the stillness of winter when, that is, we suddenly allow ourselves the silence to appreciate it. The ‘patience remembered’ is the bodily understanding that part of us knows how to wait, knows how to pay attention at a deeper level and knows how to be nourished by the taste and texture of what has silently grown and continues to grow naturally in our lives, without will or effort. Winter apple… an experience of the essence of the turning year in a single bite. DW
Winter Apple
Let the apple ripen on the branch beyond your need to take it down. Let the coolness of autumn and the breathing, blowing wind test its adherence to endurance, let the others fall. Wait longer than you would, go against yourself, find the pale nobility of quiet that ripening demands, watch with patience as the silhouette emerges and the leaves fall, see it become a solitary roundness against a greying sky, let winter come and the first frost threaten, and then wake one morning to see the breath of winter has haloed its redness with light. So that a full two months after you should have taken the apple down, you hold it in your closed hand at last and bite into the cool sweetness spread evenly through every single atom of a pale and yielding structure, so that you taste on that cold, grey day, not only the after reward of a patience remembered, not only the summer sunlight of a postponed perfection, but the sweet, inward stillness of the wait itself. -from Pilgrim




A celebration of the stillness of winter when, that is, we suddenly allow ourselves the silence to appreciate it. The ‘patience remembered’ is the bodily understanding that part of us knows how to wait, knows how to pay attention at a deeper level and knows how to be nourished by the taste and texture of what has silently grown and continues to grow naturally in our lives, without will or effort.in our lives. Winter apple… an experience of the full ripening of the year in a single bite. DW
The ability to let things alone to ripen in their own way. The daily practice of allowing things to become fully themselves and refusing to harvest any moment until it is fully ripe. To take time to dwell in the silence and darkness of winter where a full maturation always takes place just as our own understanding is ripened in the depths of sleep. To let those we love and live with radically alone to have their own voices and their own way of imagining the world. To let our colleagues and our fellow citizens alone to have their own lives. To feel the full nourishing benefit in the neglected art of waiting and witnessing…. DW