Hygge Feature #17 Coming in from the cold and dark

Being outdoors in the cold and coming home makes hygge more intense. A bowl of soup, a warm fire and the tingle of warmth returning to frozen hands and feet – it’s almost worth going outside for! Marion Clarke, from Northern Ireland, sent me this beautiful poem/photo, which inspired today’s post.

white fire

the silence of me looking out
at the world from the doorway
and you looking at me looking out
letting in the cold and not minding for once

the icing sugar coating over so many
houses, sheds and cars, quilting
the fields, the snow still falling
softly now, lazily, every flake

taking its time, enjoying the last
freshets of air whilst deciding
where and how to kiss the ground
or the fence post or the branch or

another snowflake – the silence beckons –
but slowly, I balance on the threshold
unsure whether to go walk in the crisp
snow and footprint a new story on the

world or turn back to the
warmth within, back to the open
fire of spitting logs
and blushing coal and sofa chairs

that sink a little and swallow your
weight, but the indecision
is also delicious – the inbetween
-ness of outside, inside, and you looking

at me looking at the world

Bethany Rivers

.

Hygge

Glasgow 2017

 

The house is cold after our absence

no heat, bustle of people

lonely.

 

Taking down the flour, I start a soda bread

sifting, bicarb, pinch salt, last week’s milk

 

The smell expands conjures childhood

comfort, a warm slice with butter

kettle on.

 

Rain beats on my window, dark descends.

The house envelops me, home.

 

 Rona Fitzgerald

 

 

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