Winter pleasures

Now we're well into Deep Autumn in this part of the world. Great drifts of yellow leaves carpet the parks and gardens, and berries hang like bright beads against the grey skies. Walking through the Botanic Gardens yesterday, I saw three wood-pigeons stuffing themselves on the berries of an ornamental hawthorn, putting on much needed fat for the cold time ahead. The Paradise ducks have become more vocal lately, staking out winter territory on the city's waterways. Bellbirds have come down from the hills to take advantage of the additional shelter and food offered by the suburban environment, so we can enjoy their chiming calls at close range. Won't be long now before I start putting dripping out for the waxeyes, hanging it in a plastic net from the pear-tree where I can see the birds from the living room window.  It's something to look forward to in winter. But there's more.
     Talking with Jacqui this afternoon, and we were both fantasizing about other winter pleasures, namely winter puddings. Fruit crumble, apple cake, chocolate fudge pudding, sticky date pudding, ginger pudding, all the best comfort food. And roasts, casseroles, soups and stews, the lovely slow food that needs time to develop full and subtle flavour. And winter vegetables, pumpkin, kumara and yams and leeks and red onions, and potatoes in all forms, but especially as garlic mash.
        In addition to great food, winter gives us a good excuse not to exercise. It's too cold, the days are short and wet, or a vicious wind is blowing. It can be pleasant to wrap up for a winter walk, but  it's often pleasanter to stay inside, where you can mull wine, read, read, read to your hearts content, or watch all three extended DVDs in a marathon Lord of the Rings session.
      Pull up the drawbridge and have an all day baking session, or plan the great garden you'll have next year.
      Enjoy the first snow and hope for an extra day off, snowbound. If you're arty or crafty you can get into projects without being distracted by beautiful weather or the summer's ever-present need for lawnmowing. It's usually quieter in winter. Everyone is indoors; the noisy DIY types are less inclined to be DIYing ouside.
      And you can sleep more. Afternoon naps save electricity, so you're doing your part at saving the planet, (don't feel guilty) or you could stay in bed till midday, because its just not worth getting up when the rain's pouring down and it's 10 degrees in the living room. You could even gasp! stay in your nightclothes all day because you don't want to expose your nakedness to the chill.
      Sleep in your thermals and pretend you're stuck in a snowbound cabin in the back country, or that you're a papoose wrapped in a bear-skin in a Teepee on the Great Plains, watching sparks disappear into the night up the fire-hole. (This always sent me to sleep when I was a kid; I was convinced I was really a Sioux boy-child called Little Bear, and had somehow ended up with a dreary old couple in bourgeois New Zealand).
      And watch for the first crocuses and Earlicheer narcissus. And Iris stylosa with its delicate scent. And wintersweet. And Camellia 'Yuletide' with its cheery yellow stamens and Father-Christmas- red petals.
      So, winter is not all bad. In fact, it's really quite good.