Here in Wisconsin, the snow is still on the ground, evergreens are the only thing in the green spectrum, and everything feels still. Movement outside is mainly from the crows, sometimes a woodpecker, cardinal, or chickadee.

A few times a day I see a person or two walking alone or with a fur friend. Usually, this neighborhood is full of activity and noise. Not so in the middle of winter. It’s quiet and still. I enjoy it at this point in the season.

Underneath the snow, the earth dwellers are still deep in sleep. Within the plants, some changes are slightly taking place as nature senses the gradual growing length and strength of sunlight.

Plants will awaken from dormancy soon enough, though it’s imperative they stay quiet and unwavering in dormancy.

This is the time along the Wheel of the Year known as Candlemas or Imbolc and is known for time of initiation and renewing commitments. It’s also a time to look forward to spring and foretell what harvesting success is likely to bring. The amount of sunlight steadily growing is honored and celebrated with the lighting and making of candles.

I’ve always thought Spring Equinox would be a more appropriate time for these activities because plants and animals are renewing their commitments to life as they awaken from soil, caves, and other hidden lairs.

However, I’ve recently come to realize the reason this time of year is appropriate for renewals.

This is the Midpoint – a time between two points in time – the remembrance of the previous growing season of fruition and a looking ahead to a time to hope what will come to fruition.

In my part of the world, summer is full of action with outdoor activities fully open due to warmer temperatures and longer sunlit days. Spring is full of renewal with plants budding out, doors and windows opened to let in fresh air, and shaking off all the extra layers of clothes.

But what about in between those times? The Midpoint? After summer it feels good to wind down, settle, and rest as days get colder and darkness descendance for longer periods. Then, as the sun begins to gradually show itself, it feels good to look forward to the green growing things and renewed activity outside. Midpoint feels like that.

As gardeners planning for next planting season can be a bit of a conundrum – our eyes can be bigger than our stomachs so to speak. We sort of forget the work of summer and dream of planting everything in spring. Midpoint feels like that.

Before the luxuries of food preservation the way we enjoy it now, I imagine this is the time of the year food supplies would be dwindled. People would probably make note how long it will last until weather permits harvests, gathering, and hunting. No matter how hungry or well fed the mental note was taking place at this midpoint.

One would take interest in committing to a bigger garden, more productive methods, and promising oneself to gather more so that next Midpoint it would be warmer and full of tasty meals.

This may be a time of hunger. Hunger for more food, more warmth, more activity, seeing friends and family, moving freely without the confines of clothing. A time of dreaming. A time of joy for the comforts available.

Currently, sitting in my warm house looking at the garden under snow, I’m thinking of the discomforts of summer – heat, sore muscles, biting insects, sunburns – but in no way deterred by any of it as I might be at the end of September looking forward to the cool days of autumn. Actually, in a strange way, those discomforts sound pleasant because it means I’m outside, in the garden, with bare feet on the scrumptious soil.

This is also a time of renewed commitment to habits related to spiritual practice. The long dark night huddled around the warm fires, moving around less in confined homes brings about more contemplation and life reflection. We sift through what is working well with our life and want to do more I it.

People feel this quickening of energy too. Some people are growing restless inside and want warmer time to come, others are starting some of the longer to germinate garden seeds, and others had time to look within and are ready to let the seeds within awaken. And others want to renew their commitment to themselves, to the calling they feel within to reconnect to nature, learn the herbal wisdom, and find their inner power.

And now, at Midpoint, I feel well rested and fed; ready to rededicate myself to spiritual endeavors.

What do you feel ready to commit yourself to or reawaken?