(the following post contains affiliate links)
I met Patrice Gopo during a week-long writer’s residency at the wonderful Collegeville Institute. I was just beginning the book that would become Placemaker. She was nearing the end of the book that has become All the Colors We Will See. It was always a treat to take a break from writing and run over to the kitchen for tea or coffee, only to find that Patrice was taking a break at the same time. Even a brief conversation with Patrice would give me something to laugh about and something to think about.
A notable endorsement of Patrice’s book says that in this collection of essays, Patrice “sets herself apart as one of the most promising and talented writers of faith of our time.” And it’s true. She has written a beautiful, enjoyable, and quietly powerful book. It was an honor to offer my own endorsement:
It gives me so much pleasure to share a guest post from my friend Patrice Gopo on the blog today. Her reflection on a moment of seasonal transition feels just right for these days when I am contemplating (and longing for!) that subtle shift from summer to fall. The seasonal shift Patrice invokes is much less subtle, even a little violent perhaps, but it reminds me of the deep tremors we can feel when we navigate even the most seemingly ordinary life changes.
Patrice has offered a free copy of All the Colors We Will See to one reader! Read to the end to find all the details.
Breakup
In Charlotte, where winter brings no guarantee of snow, small children press their palms together, close their eyes so tight they see waves of color, and plead with God to unzip heaven. And last night God answered their prayers, pouring a fine dusting across the hard ground. This morning the radio says, “No school.” Twitter commands, “Stay off the roads.”
After my young daughters slip into seldom-used boots and pull fuzzy hats over the tips of ears, I open the front door to the sound of melting snow. We emerge into the bright sun as rivulets of water already gush down the road. Grey concrete peeks through our trail of footprints. Tiny icicles clank against the ground, succumbing to the same warm rays beating my brow. Tomorrow, I will stand on this bare sidewalk, absent the melting song that declares the cold can’t remain.
In my childhood home, we referred to today’s symphony as “breakup.” Breakup in Anchorage was a thing of weeks, maybe stretching beyond a month. A whole season. First winter. Then breakup. Finally spring. After months of snow and ice, breakup reminded us that winter could not prevail. That spring would always swallow death. Drops of water plunking against still frozen ice. Tiny rivers in search of street gutters. Frozen fangs released from roofs, shattering against porches and decks. My rubber boots—breakup boots, we called them—pounding puddles, splashing slush.
Now in my front yard, thin blades of dead grass poke through the snow. The girls lean back on the white lawn, thick tights and fleece pants shielding them from the damp. Flapping arms and legs, they leave behind the outline of angels.
“Listen,” I say. “Do you hear the snow melting?”
“Listen,” I say again.
Can they know the music? Can their ears discern those sounds in a world where snow leaves in a day? Tomorrow we will stare at yards returned to winter’s norm, at our world carrying on in muted colors. Then on a Saturday in the near future, we will awaken to the hum of lawn mowers and the soft fragrance of fresh cut grass. Without realizing it, we will step into a season that splashes pinks, purples, and vibrant greens on flowers and buds and lawns.
But what of the waiting, what of the longing for an end to the grey? What of a season that reminds us of what we leave, but hints at what still will come? The in-between time when we start to believe for another year that winter will pass. When we muster hope that the spring we remember will come again.
Standing in the driveway, I watch the girls tumble around the yard, puffed out with coats, weighted down by pastel boots. They lean towards the ground and run mittened hands across the snow. We walk to the sidewalk, a mixture of feathery white and patches of wet concrete. Around me the air sings, and the curve of my mouth mirrors my daughters’ smiles. The girls remove their mittens and slide warm fingers across chunks of ice while I languish in the dripping, the cracking against the ground, the music of today’s breakup.
Feel the ice, I think as I watch my daughters. Feel the melting ice. With both her hands, my oldest breaks a frozen gem into smaller stones. She presses a piece against her cheeks. My youngest takes another to her lips. And I imagine what I hear today, I will hear tomorrow, and the next day. Until one bright morning, a bird will sing amidst fresh buds pushing through the branches of a tree.
***
(This post originally appeared at Lunch Ticket and is used with permission.)
I would pick light most days…but weighty from time to time. With a fire, I would go light.
I would love a copy!!
Heavy or light all depends on my mood and since that can change daily, I always have one heavy and one light book going so I can switch things up.
I would pick serious any season of the year…perhaps I need to lighten up a bit? =)
I read over 150 books a year and don’t worry about the season. Only exception is summer when I tackle a BIG BOOK, which this year was Buddenbrooks
“But what of the waiting, what of the longing for an end to the grey?” That sentence takes me back to “desert” conversations in Florida. Can’t wait to read it!
I would agree that the weight of my books is tied to the weight of the season. For me, I believe it also is the approach of Advent, Easter and Pentecost that tracks along with this approach.
✨
I read both, sometimes at the same time 😳 but in the long, deep days if January and February-for whatever reason-I go for the heavy stuff an then ponder it the rest of the year.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading your reflection on Breakup. You drew me back to my childhood, to the feel of cold cheeks and wet socks after sledding. Your description of the melting snow and ice replayed my own recollections of springtime’s symphony. I would love a copy of your book!
Sometimes I wonder if the books pick me. I know that may sound strange, but it’s what it often feels like.
I try to do a mix of light & heavy in all seasons. If I’m willing to listen, I can always tell if my heart needs something lighter because of the heaviness of the week, or when the opposite is true! I need both, all year round. 🙂
I read anything and everything all time of year. Can’t wait to read your new book. Thanks.
Lovely essay! My reading is mood-driven, so season definitely plays into it, but I’ve almost always got light and heavy works going at the same time at all times.
Such eloquent writing! I read heavy material throughout the year, peppered with lighter reading here and there.
What a lovely book. Thanks for the chance to win. I seldom read “light” books no matter the season.
I’m not a winter person but writing like this reminds me of the occasional glimmer and magic found in winter.
I enjoyed two interesting non-fiction reads on vacation: The Beekeeper’s Lament and Soaring with Fidel: An Osprey Odyssey from Cape Cod to Cuba and Beyond. Who knew birds and bees could be so fascinating?!
I find I reach for light-filled books (serious or whimsical, brief or long) whenever the days get shorter. Like I’m hunting for extra sunshine between the pages.
I read weighty in every season but I love a book of poetry, Mary Oliver or Wendell Berry, when I need to be stirred and need to pay attention to what’s going on around me. I read the novel, House of Brede, while on vacation in the mountains this summer and Anthony Doerr’s book on Rome, which I found clever, light for the most part, and superbly written. All the Colors…will go on my TR list and Placemaker, of course.
I’ve been stuck in a southern fiction Appalachia state of mind this summer, but will probably move on to weightier books come winter.
I almost always read weighty books no matter the season. I just finished reading Educated by Tara Westover and Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult. I highly recommend both of them! Thanks for the giveaway. Patrice’s book sounds so good.
I would be delighted to win a copy! It sounds wonderful.
I tend to read whatever I’m in the mood for and I don’t know that the season plays into it, but maybe it affects me more than I think! 🙂
Sounds wonderful. I work at Barnes and Noble and always look forward to their Great New Writers picks. Recents from there I loved we’re Sing Unburied Sing, A Different Kind of Mother, A Place For Us, Tell Me More and Tangerine. For some reason at this time of my life I prefer the weightier subjects. Thanks for the heads up on an exciting new writer!
It’s not the seasons that determine what I read, but my moods, and at times, my needs. I will often have several books going and each one waits in the best spot for reading it. And in all seasons, as weather permits, my swing that hangs between a hickory and an oak is the best spot for any kind of book.
How lovely- the breakup. I tend to read weightier books year round. I reach for fluffier ones in between particularly heavy reads or as a brain break in the evenings. I would love a copy of this book!
What an excellent post! I find myself in a “gray” place right now as my nest is emptying out and I need to refocus my role. But, with the Lord, good things are coming! Thanks for the encouragement! ps I enjoy books that challenge my heart and mind 🙂
Would love this book. Open to Canadians? Definitely gravitate to more serious book reading.
Yes! I should have specified. It’s been a while since I hosted a giveaway. Thanks for the comment!
I would love to read this book…sounds delightful!
This is a beautiful excerpt. Thank you, Christie and Patrice. I’m all for heavy books year round. I’d love to win!
I would love to read this book…it sounds delightful!
This is a beautiful excerpt. Thank you, Christie and Patrice. I’m all for heavy books year round. I would love to win.
Your book sounds like one to bring me into the seasons of light and heavy. I’m curious to read more of your impressions of the seasons and your interaction with your family. Thanks for the chance to have a chance to read this book.
This is my kind of writing. I’m always drawn to weightier books about breakthroughs out of brokenness and I especially love when they’re written with a poet’s hand. Patricia’s piece here is lovely and I’d love to win her full-length book. 💛
I don’t know whether to blame autocorrect or myself, but sorry for mistyping your name, Patrice! 😉
Lovely writing. I’d love to have a copy!
Lovely writing. I’d love to have a copy of this book. Thank you!
I think I generally want lighter books in winter, in opposition to the grey weight of winter, but perhaps leaning into the weight instead of shying away is a good practice? 🙂
This is timely – as I transition from a season of sorrow to one of hope. I just wrote to a friend that the words from Song of Solomon seem right, “The winter is past, the rain is over and gone… the time of the singing of birds is come.”
I’m not quite sure whether the descriptors ‘heavy and light’ best describe my reading preferences… but Patrice’s writing has a lovely, descriptive style; I’d love to read more.
What a beautiful writing – so full of imagery. One can feel the wetness and sharp texture of the icy shards, see the children’s rosy cheeks, and breath in the crisp air. 😀 I really enjoy this kind of descriptive writing. I just finished a more serious heavy read – “Mistakes Were Made, But Not By Me” – by Carol Tavris and Elliot Aronson, social psychologists. I think it is a book everyone should read, to understand the incomprehensible, and to inspire integrity in oneself. Sometimes a light read just for fun is the only thing that will do; and Alexander McCall Smith is a favorite author for sheer pleasure. I enjoy both kinds of reading regularly. Thank you for this give away.
I read that next book that was just delivered or I picked up used somewhere. The only books I read seasonally are Advent and Christmas and some years Easter.
I think Patrick Gopo is a picture painter. And thought provoker: “…breakup reminded us that winter could not prevail. That spring would always swallow death.” Thank You, Lord!
This book came in my mail yesterday & I am looking forward to reading it!
Great post! So looking forward to fall, our north idaho skies are clouded with wildfire smoke almost every August now. Fall feels like a cleansing when the rains and cooler temps come.
I love discovering how the seasons are woven like friends, unique individuals and yet found in each other. I am watching fall creeping into Georgia despite the witching temperatures and now I shall listen for it too. I usually always have a serious book and a fiction book running. Thank you for the gift of both of your words.
It’s the season of my life that determines what I read, although I’m always in the middle of 6 to 10 books of all varieties. Right now things are stressful so I’m mostly reading uplifting, happy ending things -distractions -along with inspirational things. When I can focus more easily, I love a good, weight, makes me think book.
Carol, I used an online random number generator to select the winner of this giveaway, and you are the winner! I will reach out via email. Congratulations! And thank you for joining in.
I find I read similar books all year and don’t change in the summer. Looks like a great read.
I really don’t have a preference because I LOVE TO READ, I pray to be the receiver of your book. WOW what I have read through exverexc is wonderful… Thanks for writing and sharing
Beautifully written.
I do think I’m more likely to read a thicker book in the winter than the summer – and any books about northern, cold climates or snow.
What a glorious excerpt! Thank you so much for sharing, Christie. I would have loved to meet you both in the kitchen for coffee. After reading this post, I can see how you and Patrice would be kindred spirits since you both have such a gift of awakening feelings with words and inviting us into experiences. I would be delighted to read All the Colors! Thank you for introducing us!
Our fall routine has begun here in south central Pennsylvania…my girls began back to school Monday and I began back to work at Messiah College. I’m voraciously finishing up my summer books and beginning heavier reading to prepare for returning students at the end of the month. We are often between seasons. Blessings to you in your new endeavors! So excited to listen!
What absolutely gorgeous writing. I could feel it in my bones! YES; as summer turns to fall, I pick up the warm, cozy, thoughtful books that feel like Home. Hygge, right? 🙂
I do not receive many emails that make me alight with expectation. But when I see your email there in my inbox I patiently wait till I have time carved out in my schedule where my mind can ponder every thoughtful phrase or picture every descriptive scene. Thank you for sharing your writings, and the writings of others.
I’m a teacher, so summer is actually my heaviest reading time, then in the school year, I read more for pleasure when I can snatch a moment. But every day is a day to read around here! Also: yay for Collegeville Institute! My husband Clint met Patrice there this summer and showed me her amazing book! Can’t wait to read it!
Since I work in a school and have my summers off, I actually prefer weighty books then when I have long, open days to think on the content. I would love to have a copy of this book!
This giveaway is closed, and the winner has been contacted. Thank you so much everyone for your enthusiastic support of Patrice’s new book!