What’s going on here? For the first time ever, an explanation of the photo grid.

L to R, row 1: first snowdrop of 2024, late February western light gilding the kitchen, Jeremiah & Jordan at the top of Bare Mountain at the very beginning of mud season, Eliot helping a spotted salamander cross the road safely on Big Night 2024 (it’s a real thing, look it up it’s so cool), me/living room, annual Nancy Wells Whitten memorial bunny cake, which we got a lot of help decorating this year from our British and PA cousins
Row 2: Eclipse viewers in the driveway, a snail Eliot became friends with, E blowing out candles at his big 10th (!) birthday party, J & E at the Long Beach aquarium during their June trip to California, rose campion going nuts in the jackhammer garden, E taking me for a spin around the pond.
Row 3: Jeremiah turning 13 (!!?!), the garage bedazzled for the midsummer party we had celebrating his 13th & our buddy Isaiah’s 6th, J rope swinging into the Connecticut River, orange turkey tail mushroom, rainbow after a summer storm, Eliot eating cherry tomatoes in the jhg in August.
💚
Row 4: guys tubing in the river on a camping trip, the family selfie we took for the bulletin board at E’s school at the last possible moment, wetlands off the rail trail in perfect fall weather, Jeremiah in an XC race — he went out for the team for the first time this year and it turns out he’s fast! My slightly unhinged appreciation of running and Jordan’s mostly-legs build are a powerful combination. Two dancing vegetable guys I made when our farmshare included irresistible carrot-pants, spooky super/harvest moon.
Row 5: me working in the autumn 2024 extension of the jhg, a barrel of apples at a cider-pressing party, Eliot’s snail Halloween costume (I made it to meet his *very* specific vision & I think it came out great honestly), maroon leaves & November sky, walking through New Salem when Jordan took me on a stick-season date to this unlikely museum in a hill town near here, E holding one of the intricate fishing lures he’s gotten really into making — they are awesome, kind of like jewelry or tiny sculptures but built to move in the water in interesting ways.
Row 6: Jordan at the edge of the woods just before the first snow, Jeremiah doing homework (for the first time this year his English teacher has assigned a few of the texts I used to teach and he’s asked for my help making sense of them 🤯⏳) Eliot in Forest Park on the first of two very close together holiday roadtrips to Richmond for Thanksgiving & Christmas, solstice light/Christmas tree, painting Jordan made of the kitchen, J & E in RVA on the morning of the 25th.
Row 7: Jordan & Eliot skating on the pond behind our house — consistently below-freezing temps this winter have made it very skateable, New Years Day good luck plate (we had people over for black eyed peas and cornbread and collard greens and stewed tomatoes, but as soon as everyone left the four of us got floored by norovirus that we’d apparently picked up in the last days of December — no one else got sick but it made for a weird kickoff to 2025 for us). E & me in the woods in the snow, cranberry tarts that came out pretty, J & E walking west across our neighbor’s yard, winter sunset over the cornfield next to us & the Holyoke range.

The last few weeks have been gentled and brightened in the valley by vintage snowfalls, with cold enough days between to let the layers collect sled tracks and paw prints and the debris of forts and snowball fights before another few inches come down to smooth it all over. The way the snow amplifies and multiplies the returning daylight feels especially medicinal — inside the house bright objects sparkle and even the laundry pile glows, and all the plants reach wildly toward the windows in a way that’s hard not to anthropomorphize. I’m grateful, as national news gets darker and stranger and the season presents its myriad smaller, more personal challenges, for the lift it gives.