Micro Seasons: Deer Cross Through Snow

Tracks appear in fresh snow, proof of hidden life.

I love the Japanese concept of ‘Micro Seasons’. Weather is so many more things than just winter, spring, summer, and fall! Also, I want more chances a year to to use seasonal shifts as a chance for contemplation. So I made a list of micro seasons relevant to where I live¹, and wrote a prompt to accompany each one. Let’s mark our way through them together. I plan to use each one as a lens: What did the calendar say to look for, and what does the prompt help me surface?

---

January 6 – January 20: Deer Cross Through Snow

Look for: Animal tracks appearing in fresh snow
Prompt: What signs do you leave behind, even in silence?

I only have 67 minutes to write this update before this microseason ends at midnight. My plan had been to write it Sunday night, but then our power went out.

It is now Tuesday night, and the power is still out. Nova Scotia Power is saying it will be back on Wednesday at 2pm. But also they said it would be back on Monday at 2pm, on Monday at 11pm, on Tuesday at 2pm, and on Tuesday at 11pm. So.

This was not at all what I was thinking about when I wrote this question, but I only have 53 minutes now to get this posted — so I’m giving myself permission to type out the first thing that comes to mind.

If I was on Subway Takes, my hot take would be that we should all take a moment of consideration before telling someone they left the milk out¹. Unless it is a recurring thing, it feels like the only reason to do that is out of some instinct towards score keeping that hopefully is unnecessary if you like the person you are sharing space with.

I remember part of some Brené Brown clip² where she talked about getting ready for work in the morning in a big hurry and spilling coffee on herself and immediately exclaiming “Goddamnit Steve!” because in a spilt second her brain had created a narrative about the fact that her husband had gotten home later than expected so her bedtime routine was thrown off and that’s why she spilled the coffee. It was so funny to me and so relatable.

I completely understand the impulse to ascribe blame elsewhere for what is actually a blameless thing. I also am always trying hard to unlearn the habit of ascribing motive to someone’s actions and then being mad at them about that imagined motive.

What I am very messily trying to say in these last 35 minutes of this micro season is that I think we can say a lot to someone by not itemizing their mistakes at them (or perceived mistakes!). The sign this silence leaves behind is: “I think you are good, even if you get something wrong. You don’t need to be perfect to earn the benefit of the doubt from me. There is no demerit system here, we are on the same team. I know you say a hundred unkind things to yourself in your head every day, and I don’t need to add my voice to that chorus because you made a human error. Let’s be humans together.”

Here’s a quick pivot back to the present moment. I’ve been so happy that in these past three days without electricity — when we can see our breath in our apartment and are taking turns leaving the blankets to grab each other food and battery packs — Haritha and I have been genuinely good-natured toward each other.

This is an awful situation. But because neither of our nervous systems is already on high alert from constant, low-grade blame, there’s been no impulse to get ahead of it by turning on each other first. No scorekeeping. No pre-emptive defensiveness. Just two people moving through something uncomfortable together.

Leo, on the other hand, is having the time of his life. If he could figure out how to turn the power off forever, he would. Luckily, he can barely figure out how to get back to the bedroom when he goes into the kitchen.

1. Insert whatever low-stakes mistake example here.

2. I know, she’s been disappointing in a lot of ways.