There’s a quiet shift happening.
The light lingers a little longer – oh how I love that the walk home after work is not in the dark. And I hung my washing out TWICE this week! The ground softens. Birds become louder and more insistent in the mornings. They are also chomping their way through the bird seed and fat balls at quite a pace.
Winter loosens its grip, and spring edges in.
At Cup-O-T, we often talk about working with nature rather than against it. This isn’t just about being outdoors. It’s about recognising that we are part of natural systems. The woodland rests, the soil rests, seeds wait. And perhaps, we are allowed to do the same?
Winter: A season of hibernation and taking stock
In winter, nature appears still. Trees are standing bare and growth slows. Energy retreats underground.
In modern life, we’re often encouraged to keep pushing through this season, to be productive, social, switched on. But biologically and psychologically, winter invites something different.
The field of chronobiology explores how human beings have natural rhythms that are influenced by light and seasonal change. Reduced daylight affects our sleep-wake cycles, energy levels and mood. The experience of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), recognised within diagnostic frameworks such as the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, reminds us that seasonal shifts are not simply poetic, they are physiological and psychological realities.
Rather than seeing winter as a deficit, we can view it as a developmental phase.
Psychiatrist Norman E. Rosenthal, who first formally described SAD, highlighted how light exposure impacts mood regulation. Winter can increase our need for rest, reflection and lower stimulation. In therapeutic work, this often mirrors a period of “taking stock”, reviewing what has been, noticing what feels depleted, allowing space for integration.
In nature-based practice, we see winter as composting time. Old leaves break down, nutrients return to the soil, and what looks like decay is actually preparation.
Psychologically, this aligns with the reflective stage of experiential learning models such as David Kolb’s learning cycle; where reflection follows action and creates the conditions for new insight. Without reflection, growth becomes frantic rather than grounded.
Winter, then, is not wasted time. It is root time.
Building the allotment: turning soil, not forcing growth
This year in our woodland, we have begun building an allotment space with the young people attending our Campfire Community group.
There is something beautifully honest about starting an allotment at the tail end of winter. The beds are not yet abundant (or even built!). There are no bright vegetables to harvest. But there is mud, plans and excitement about the potential.
Preparing the allotment has involved clearing an area, digging beds, shoveling woodchip and compost and noticing drainage and light. It is slow, physical work that can’t be rushed. Seeds planted into unprepared soil struggle, we need to create the right environment.
This feels like the perfect metaphor for the transition from winter to spring in our own lives.
Before we “grow”, we prepare…Before we launch ideas, we test them gently…Before we expand, we ensure our foundations are steady.
In organisational and psychological development, this mirrors the idea of sustainable change rather than reactive change. Models such as Kurt Lewin’s change theory describe phases of unfreezing, transition and refreezing. Winter can be seen as the unfreezing, a pause where we loosen old patterns. Spring becomes the careful experimentation phase.
Spring: tentative growth
Spring is not an explosion, it is tentative. In the woods we notice small buds, the beginning of blossom, early shoots – and frost is still possible.
In mental health recovery and growth, this stage requires gentleness. The concept of the “Window of Tolerance,” developed by Dan Siegel, reminds us that growth happens best when we are regulated, not overwhelmed. If we rush ourselves into spring productivity without adequate winter restoration, we risk tipping into stress or shutdown.
In the woodland, we protect early growth. We sew seeds, we water, we observe the changes, and notice the sap rising in the trees.
In ourselves, spring might look like:
- Trying one new idea rather than ten
- Reconnecting socially in small, manageable ways
- Beginning a project without demanding perfection
- Setting intentions instead of rigid goals
This is also supported by research in positive psychology. Martin Seligman’s PERMA model highlights that wellbeing grows through positive emotion, engagement, relationships, meaning and accomplishment, but these don’t need to arrive all at once. They can emerge gradually, like seedlings.
Living in seasonal rhythms
Agricultural societies have long understood cyclical living, sowing, tending, harvesting, resting. Modern productivity culture tends to value constant output, but human nervous systems are cyclical, not mechanical.
The concept of ultradian rhythms, natural cycles of energy and recovery occurring throughout the day, reinforces that rest is not optional; it is built into our biology. Scaled up, seasonal rhythms invite a similar ebb and flow across the year.
When we align effort with energy, rather than forcing consistency, we often see:
- Reduced burnout
- Increased creativity
- More sustainable motivation
- Greater emotional regulation
In therapeutic settings, we often help people map their own “internal seasons.” Not everyone experiences winter in December. For some, it follows loss. For others, it arrives after intense productivity. Recognising your current season allows you to respond with compassion rather than criticism.
What is your spring asking for?
As we stand in our woodland allotment, looking at freshly laid woodchip, creating the vegetable beds and waiting for the the first signs of green, we are reminded:
- Growth is not loud.
- Change is not instant.
- Preparation matters.
Perhaps this is the invitation of early spring…begin gently.
You might ask yourself:
- What has winter taught me?
- What needs composting rather than carrying forward?
- What small seed feels ready to be planted?
- What support will protect early growth?
At Cup-O-T, we believe mental health is not separate from the natural world. The woodland shows us, year after year, that rest and growth belong together.
Winter was never the end of the story, it was the quiet preparation for what comes next. And spring, like wellbeing, unfolds in its own time.
References
American Psychiatric Association (2013) Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (5th ed.). Washington, DC: American Psychiatric Publishing.
Kolb, D.A. (1984) Experiential Learning: Experience as the Source of Learning and Development. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall.
Lewin, K. (1951) Field Theory in Social Science. New York: Harper & Row.
Rosenthal, N.E., Sack, D.A., Gillin, J.C., Lewy, A.J., Goodwin, F.K., Davenport, Y., Mueller, P.S., Newsome, D.A. and Wehr, T.A. (1984) ‘Seasonal affective disorder: A description of the syndrome and preliminary findings with light therapy’, Archives of General Psychiatry, 41(1), pp. 72–80.
Seligman, M.E.P. (2011) Flourish: A Visionary New Understanding of Happiness and Well-being. New York: Free Press.
Siegel, D.J. (1999) The Developing Mind: How Relationships and the Brain Interact to Shape Who We Are. New York: Guilford Press.
Czeisler, C.A. and Buxton, O.M. (2017) ‘The human circadian timing system and sleep–wake regulation’, in Kryger, M.H., Roth, T. and Dement, W.C. (eds.) Principles and Practice of Sleep Medicine. 6th edn. Philadelphia: Elsevier.