"We bow our hearts and thank our God/For winter rest and grace"

Yes, I recognize the irony of complaining, however gently, about what the machine age has cost us by using the very epitome of the machine age to do so, but ironies abound and if you can't stand that then get out of the kitchen!

There. That's that. Was just listening to this song, and the words struck me for the first time (I listen to songs a long time before I listen to them). Can't reproduce the music or Jean Ritchie's lovely voice, but I can give you her words:

Wintergrace (Jean Ritchie)

It is the time so well we love,
The time of all the year;
When winter calls with chilling breath,
For fireside and good cheer.

A time for man and beast to stand
And feel the season turn;
To watch the stars for secret signs,
And God's true lessons learn.


*For the time when the corn is all into the barn,
The old cow's breath's a frosty wine,
When the morn along the fallow field
Doth silver shine.


And when cold morning's radiant star
Shines over hill and plain;
We know anew that little babe
Is born to us again.

And man and beast and bird in tree,
Each one in his own place;
We bow our hearts and thank our God
For winter rest and grace.


*For the time when the corn is all into the barn,
The old cow's breath's a frosty wine,
When the morn along the fallow field
Doth silver shine.

In the liner notes to the CD I have, she says of this song:

"Ice and snow mean hardship to city people, as I learned when I came to New York and had my first taste of 'rush hour' during a January storm. How different on our Kentucky mountainside farm! Here, the cold months mean a needed breathing space--the land, the animals, peop;le all rest and gather strength of body and spirit to begin the growing cycle again, in the spring...I wanted to sing about this feeling of winter grace and peace. There was no old song for it, so I made this one."

No old song, of course, because who would need one before the Industrial Revolution? As Joni Mitchell said, you won't know what you got 'til it's gone. Well, too few of us today have any rest in winter; the machine drives us relentlessly on, as the machine knows neither seasons nor day nor night. The older I get, the greater the wisdom of keeping Sabbath seems to me. And the greater the faithfulness of it, too.

At least we can raise a glass or offer thanks for "winter rest and peace." Even if we can only get it in bits and pieces and snatches.