By KAREN MADORIN
As I get older, I find shorter days and cooler temperature trigger an overpowering urge to nest.
Reading friends’ posts; watching my hubs reorganize summer and winter closets, yard tools, and hunting gear; and comparing daily life stories with others tells me I’m not alone. Scores of humans have entered winter nesting mode. Note rolled up hoses, cleaned and tidily hung rakes and shovels, and bedding and pillows airing on clothes lines.
Others reorganize dressers and closets to enable easy access to season-appropriate clothing. Industrious house-keepers empty cupboards to clean them thoroughly along with washing walls and ceilings. One friend who lived for years in the high Sierras shared that she prepares her pantry every fall so she has enough goods stored she can make soups 'til spring arrives.
Until I visited with her, I hadn’t realized it, but I start winter nesting in May when I chop and freeze three huge bags of Vidalia onions to last us through the year. Then I chop and freeze fruit and vegetables as they ripen throughout the summer. By fall my freezer bulges with supplies to feed us through coming cold months.
After Steph and I hung up, I scanned our pantry. While I may not buy supplies by the case, I unconsciously stock up each trip to the grocery store. By the time snow flies, those shelves contain ingredients enough to keep us in chili, chicken noodle soup, vegetable stew, ham 'n' beans, barley beef soup, and homemade cinnamon rolls and bread, no matter how deep the drifts.
This girlfriend chat sent me down a bunny trail. Remembering my favorite childhood 'Little House on the Prairie' book series. I recalled Laura writing detailed accounts of how Ma and Pa filled their attic with pumpkins, dried corn, smoked hams and bacon, and other supplies necessary to people who lived far from a market. We may not pack the attic, but cupboards and freezer burst at the seams.
That led to another off-trail trek when I thought about squirrels storing nuts to feed them through the winter and mountain pika packing away grasses and seeds to nourish them when snow buries food sources. Heavens, each autumn bears feast like there is no tomorrow to pack on fat to sustain them through winter hibernation.
Maybe this winter nesting drive is more than a human compulsion. Maybe it’s a mammal urge. Then I thought about woodpeckers that drill holes all over a tree to fill with acorns and eagles that cross national borders following migrating ducks to ensure an ample winter food supply. This need isn’t species limited.
Perhaps the Lord created all His creatures with a desire to store supplies to last through short days and long nights.
Decades of what humans consider civilized life may lead some to think weekly grocery shopping, Amazon deliveries, furnaces, electric lighting, vehicles, and more are natural. However, others can’t ignore impulses triggered by generations of winter preparations. Short days, dropping temps, and falling leaves drive all creatures to ready themselves for whatever nature delivers.
Karen Madorin is a retired teacher, writer, photographer, outdoors lover, and sixth-generation Kansan.