winter – Christa Avampato

Crocuses in the snow. Photo by Alexandra Vo on Unsplash.

We think spring begins when the first flower blooms. But biologically, it starts right now—in the freezing cold.

If you’ve spent this winter in New York City like me, you’ve likely been dreaming of the arrival of spring during the freezing, snowy, and gray days. You also probably shook your fists at the sky when the groundhogs saw their shadow on February 2nd.

“When will this end?” you thought.

But if you ask a sugar maple or a wildflower seed, they will tell you that spring started while the snow was falling.

We tend to measure the season by what we can see—the green bud, the crocus, the robin. But nature does her most important preparation underground, long before the visuals arrive. In fact, she uses the harshness of late winter to fuel the growth of spring. Without the present cold, there is no future warmth—literally and figuratively, for nature and for us.

Here is how nature is prepping for spring right now in this last month of winter, and what we can learn from her and translate into our own lives.

1. The Cold Is the Key (Stratification)

We often complain about the bitter cold, gray skies, and damp days of February, wishing them away. But for many native plants, this weather in this season is non-negotiable. It’s the foundation of their flourishing future.

This process is called stratification. Seeds like milkweed, coneflower, and lavender have tough outer shells that keep them dormant. They literally cannot grow until they have gone through a period of intense cold and moisture. The freeze acts as a signal, softening the shell and telling the embryo inside that it is safe to wake up.

Without the hard winter, there is no spring bloom. The obstacle is also the key that turns the lock.

2. Use the Pressure and Change (Sap Flow)

Right now, maple syrup farmers are busy. Why? Because the sap is running.

But sap doesn’t run just because it gets warm. It runs because of the fluctuation. While the shifts in transitions may drive us crazy, it’s the alternation between freezing nights and thawing days that creates pressure changes inside the sugar maple trees, acting as a natural pump to move sugar from the roots up to the branches.

The tree uses the instability of the season to fuel its growth. Being off-balance all the time helps the tree find their secure center.

The Togetherhood Takeaway

We often want to jump straight from winter rest to full-bloom success. We want the project to launch, the book to sell, or the answer to appear.

But right now, today, nature is in the stratification phase. We are, too.

If you feel like nothing is happening right now, that you’re stuck and that the world is off-kilter, or if things feel cold and hard and impossible right now in your local community and our global community, remember the seed. You aren’t stuck. You’re just softening your shell so you can break through in the days ahead as the light and warmth return.

Use this time, today, tomorrow, and the rest of this month before spring, to prepare your roots. Organizing, planning, and laying the groundwork for our future—collectively and individually—is active growth, even if no one else can see it yet.

Spring is coming. But the work starts now.

creativity

The 2026 Winter Olympic Mascots Have a High-Tech Biomimicry Secret

February 11, 2026February 11, 2026 Christa Avampato

Meet the stoat: A master of soft robotics and adaptive camouflage who has been refining their technology for 5 million years.

An ermine with a white winter fur coat peaking out from the snow. — Ermine in winter. Photo by National Park Service.

If you’ve been watching the Winter Olympics in Milan-Cortina this week, you’ve likely seen the mascots: two adorable, ferret-like creatures named Tina and Milo.

They are stoats (also known as ermines when they have their winter white coats!), and they were chosen to represent the games because of their liveliness and resilience. But biologically speaking, the stoat isn’t just cute. They are engineering marvels that have been refining their technology for over 5 million years.

While athletes are pushing the limits of human performance on the slopes, the stoat offers a masterclass in biomimicry—inspiring everything from search-and-rescue robots to “smart” clothing.

Here are three ways this little creature is shaping the future of technology:

1. The Soft Robotics Revolution

The stoat’s superpower is their shape. They’re elongated, highly flexible body allow them to navigate complex, burrow-like environments that other predators can’t touch.

Engineers are now studying this slender agility to design soft, maneuverable robots. Unlike rigid machines, these stoat-inspired bots can twist and flex to navigate narrow, restricted spaces—making them perfect for search-and-rescue operations in collapsed buildings or inspecting intricate pipeline infrastructure.

2. Adaptive Camouflage (Smart Materials)

We know the stoat changes their coat from rusty brown to snowy white in the winter. But biomimicry looks deeper than just the color change.

Researchers are studying the ermine transformation to develop adaptive materials that can change their properties based on environmental cues. Imagine stealth technologies or outdoor gear that doesn’t just insulate, but actively responds to temperature shifts and visual surroundings, mimicking the stoat’s ability to blend seamlessly into a snowy landscape.

3. Algorithms of Efficiency

Stoats are specialized hunters. Their movement is fast, fluid, and incredibly efficient.

Computer scientists are now analyzing their hunting dynamics and even their playful behavior to write better code. The way a stoat moves—making split-second decisions to navigate obstacles while maintaining speed—is informing movement algorithms for autonomous vehicles and drones.

The Togetherhood Takeaway

It is easy to look at nature as sweet and poetic. Nature’s that, and so much more. When we look at a stoat, we are looking at 5–7 million years of R&D and adaptation through experimentation.

As we cheer on the athletes this week, let’s give a little applause to Tina and Milo, too. They aren’t just mascots; they are blueprints for the next generation of adaptive, resilient technology.

Nature doesn’t just survive the winter. She engineers her way through it.

creativity

Why We Need Chill Hours (According to an Apple Tree, a Squirrel, and a Bear)

January 21, 2026January 18, 2026 Christa Avampato

Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash

We feel guilty for being tired in January. But for apple trees, squirrels, and bears doing nothing is the most productive thing they do all year.

I grew up on an apple farm in New York State’s Hudson Valley.

Because of that, my relationship with winter is a little different than most. To the casual observer, an apple orchard in January looks unproductive. The branches are bare, the ground is frozen, and it appears that nothing is happening.

But if you ask a farmer, they’ll tell you January is one of the most critical months of the year. It’s the month that decides the harvest.

We have a tendency in our culture to treat rest as a sign of weakness—or at best, a reward you get only after you’ve burned out. But nature has a different rulebook. She doesn’t ask herself to earn her rest. In the wild, winter isn’t a pause button; it’s an active biological process of repair.

If you’re feeling slow, foggy, or tired this week, I have good news: there’s nothing wrong with you. In fact, you’re doing everything right according to nature. You are just wintering.

Here are three examples of how nature uses the cold to build the future—and how we can adopt a few pages of her playbook.

1. The Apple Tree: Counting the Cold

On the farm, nature and farmers alike live by a concept called “Chill Hours.”

We tend to think trees just “shut off” when the temperature drops. In reality, they’re actively counting. Apple trees have a strict biological requirement to endure a specific number of hours (usually 800 to 1,000) between 32° and 45°F (0° and 7°C.)

If they don’t get those hours—if the winter is too warm or too short—the hormone that suppresses blooming won’t break down. They literally cannot produce fruit in the spring unless they have rested enough in the winter.

The lesson? The productivity of the harvest is biologically impossible without the stillness of the winter. You aren’t losing time by resting; you’re banking your Chill Hours for when the light and warmth of spring return.

2. The Arctic Ground Squirrel: Renovating the Brain

If you’ve felt a bit of “brain fog” lately, you’re in good company.

When the Arctic Ground Squirrel hibernates, their body temperature drops below freezing, and they essentially disconnects their neural pathways. Their brain synapses wither and retract—like pruning a tree—to save energy.

This sounds destructive, but it’s actually a renovation. Research shows that when they wake up, their brains undergo a massive “regrowth” phase. They regenerate those connections stronger and more efficient than before, similar to how muscle fibers when broken down by exercise knit themselves back together when we rest to become stronger.

The brain fog isn’t a failure; it’s a remodel. Sometimes the brain needs to disconnect to clear the clutter and build new pathways for the year ahead.

3. The Black Bear: The Miracle Healers

Finally, there’s the bear. We know they enter a deep sleep in the winter, but what happens while they sleep is the real miracle.

Research from the University of Minnesota found a stunning capability in hibernating black bears: they are super-healers. If a bear goes into hibernation with a wound, the bear will heal faster and with less scarring during their dormant state than they would during the active summer months.

Even with a metabolism running at a fraction of normal speed, their immune system shifts into a specialized repair mode.

It’s a powerful reminder: We heal best when we rest.

A Permission Slip for January

If nature—in all her wisdom and efficiency—requires a season of dormancy to prepare for fruit, rewire the brain, and heal wounds, why do we think we are exempt? Why do we insist on pushing through when what we really need is the sleep and rest that will help us be better versions of ourselves in the long-run? Sleep and rest are powerful tools. Use them. Appreciate them. Luxuriate in them. Your future self will thank you.

So, if you’re struggling to get into high gear this winter, stop. Take a nap. Read a book. Laugh with friends. Eat nourishing food. Breathe. Let the ground freeze knowing you’re giving yourself your necessary Chill Hours. Spring will be here soon enough. Don’t rush it. Rest.

creativity

My winter wish

December 21, 2025 Christa Avampato

The moon and the stars through the trees. Image by Christa Avampato.

Tonight, as we usher in the longest night of 2025, may we give ourselves the permission and grace to rest. Yes, the light begins to return slowly and surely as we move forward. But before us tonight lies the gift of darkness.

It is a time for dreaming, for reflecting, for remembering. It allows the light to shine brightest—from stars, from the moon, and from the people around us. Just as stars require the dark to be seen, we often find the best in others and ourselves during the darkest times. When confronted with difficulty, we rise to help each other.

We cannot get through this life alone. Relationships are the center of everything. Love is the center of everything.

This winter, I wish you peace. As the daylight grows, I hope the light within you and the light within me grows, too.

creativity

In winter, nature shows us how to endure difficult times

January 26, 2025January 25, 2025 Christa Avampato

Last week, it snowed in New Orleans, Pensacola, and Houston. In New York City, where I live, we had windchills in the single digits. Late one evening, I was hustling home from the subway, bundled from head to toe. My mind swirled with the news from this week; I was struggling to figure out how to make a difference. How might I flood my corner of the world with love and light? How might I take care of living beings who need my help?

I turned onto my block. The street lamps made the snow on my beautiful London Plane trees glow. They’re original to the neighborhood – over 100 years old and 100 feet tall. I stopped and looked up at them, even though the cold stung my face. I smiled, admiring their beauty and strength. They’ve lived through so much change and continued to flourish. What could I learn from them, and nature as a whole, that would help me survive and thrive in the harsh conditions we’re facing?

How animals winter
Nature bears winter’s difficulties through many adaptations. Some animals conserve energy by entering a deep sleep that lowers their metabolic rate and body temperature. Some grow thicker fur to insulate themselves. Others bulk up, eating their fill when food is plentiful in the fall and storing fat that will sustain them during the meager winter months. And others migrate – seeking out better conditions elsewhere until they can return home.

How plants winter
Plants, including my London Plane trees, have a powerful set of winter adaptations. Some trees grow thicker bark, just as animals grow thicker fur, to insulate themselves. Many plants and trees have seeds adorned with a scaly shell on the outside and soft hairs on the inside that act like a down coat, protecting the seed to survive the cold so they can root and bloom when spring arrives, and conditions improve. Like some animals, plants can also go into a deep sleep, shedding their leaves and sending their sugars into their roots for storage. They focus on developing those root systems below ground, where it’s warm and safe. This work on their roots, nourished by the sugars, allows them to regenerate their leaves each spring.

What nature teaches us about wintering
While some of us might like to hibernate or migrate until our difficulties pass, that isn’t feasible for most of us. Let’s look deeper at the adaptations of animals and plants during the winter and ask, “How does nature endure difficult times?” These are the underlying design principles that we could adapt from nature’s wintering and adopt in our own lives:

Conserve and bolster energy
When times are difficult and resources are scarce, rest and recharge. Like some of our animal kin, that might mean sleep though most of us don’t have the luxury of a hibernation season. Instead, we may find rest by reading a book, creating art, writing, listening or playing music, or any other hobby, pastime, or passion project. It could be volunteering, cooking and baking, seeing friends, learning something new, playing a sport and exercising. Whatever allows you to release stress, relax, and reenergize fits the bill.

Create some distance
Though we can’t always migrate and move away from the difficulty, we can find ways to temporarily escape and take a break from our troubles. Again, this could be through our hobbies. It could be a vacation or staycation. It could be self-care and time alone, or time with others who make us happy. Even a good meal, yoga class, movie, or a few moments of meditation can give us some distance. Microjoys – small moments of joy that we seek out and create every day – can be tremendous asset when daily life is challenging. Microjoys got me through cancer and other traumatic events in life. Joy is an act of love and resistance.

Protect and defend
Just as animals grow thicker fur and trees thicker bark, we also go through chapters in life when we need to insulate ourselves. There are many methods to do this – trimming our expenses, increasing our savings, and taking on some contract work can insulate us economically; exercising, eating healthfully, getting therapy or counseling, and making sure we’re up-to-date on all of our medical appointments helps us take care of our physical and mental health; being in community with people helps us feel less alone and better supported as we reciprocate and provide support for others.

Equip our young people and those who are vulnerable
Similar to the way a plant gives seeds a scaly coat and downy insulation to protect the seeds until spring, our young people and those who are vulnerable need protection and safety. In communities, organizations, and schools, we can collectively provide these safe spaces for those who need shelter from the storm and set them on a path for a better future.

Make progress where it’s possible to build a better future
Plants send sugars to their roots because the roots are protected underground from the harsh reality of winter. Below ground, they cultivate strength and resilience to utilize when the light and warmth of spring finds them. What can we learn now that can help us in the future? What parts of our inner lives can we work on now when exterior circumstances make outward progress difficult? How can we make ourselves better so we can do better in the days ahead?

Everyone faces challenges – seasons of scarcity and seasons of plenty. Many times, these are driven by external circumstances beyond our control. Nature offers us a blueprint to help us adapt in times of difficulty and prosper in times of abundance. We would do well to follow nature’s lead.

creativity

The season of soft things

December 5, 2023 Christa Avampato

My view on the train to Bristol, UK. Photo by Christa Avampato.

It is the season of soft things. Warm tea. Thick blankets. Crackling fires. Cozy sweaters. Candle light. Woollen socks. Hugs. Laughter. Kindness. Whispers. Dreams. The world seems especially hard right now, with sharp edges that cut and harm. I find myself craving comfort, ease, and quiet. Seeking out people who exude warmth, welcome, and joy.

Our world, especially our working world, often demands structure and immutable processes. Too often telling us what is and has been must continue to be. This relentless beat can make me tired and worn. It’s in these moments that I remind myself the value of flexibility, the ability to bend so we don’t break.

We so often prize efficiency and abhor redundancy, until we recognize that nature in all her glorious wisdom has survived and thrived for nearly 4 billion years because of her integrated systems that are stronger than the sum of the parts, with pieces that back up one another so that as a united whole they can weather the storms, accommodate change, and retain balance, even and especially in crisis. And there are always storms, and change, and crises.

Nature built herself to flex, to make room, to expect the unexpected, to support. What if that became our goal, for ourselves, our organizations, our government, our world? How then might be change, grow, evolve, and be? I suspect that in this season of soft things, I may find answers to those questions by the time the light of spring returns.

creativity

Joy today: Winter by Nina Zolotow

December 22, 2019December 21, 2019 Christa Avampato

0-2 On the first full day of winter, I always read the short essay Winter by Nina Zolotow. It’s my ritual to ring in this season as one of rest, creativity, and inspiration. I love winter, and this essay perfectly explains why. Nina wrote it in Ithaca, New York, where the fullness of all the seasons is present, each in its turn, in its time.

I hope you find as much comfort, peace, and joy in these words as I do.

Winter by Nina Zolotow
“In their garden there was always a wild profusion of tomatoes ripening on the vine, and leafy basil, arugula, and lettuce, and glossy purple eggplants, and red and yellow peppers, and zucchini with its long, bright blossoms, and there was always lunch at the wooden table on hot summer afternoons, with plates of pasta and bread and olives and salads with herbs, and many bottles of red wine that made you feel warm and drowsy, while bees hummed and the sprawling marjoram, thyme, and rosemary gave off their pungent fragrances, and at the end of the meal, always, inexplicably, there were fresh black figs that they picked themselves from the tree at the garden’s center, an eighteen-foot fig tree, for how was it possible – this was not Tuscany but Ithaca – Ithaca, New York, a rough-hewn landscape of deep rocky gorges and bitter icy winters, and I finally had to ask him – my neighbor – how did that beautiful tree live through the year, how did it endure the harshness of a New York winter and not only survive until spring but continue producing the miraculous fruit, year after year, and he told me that it was quite simple, really, that every fall, after the tree lost all its leaves, he would sever the tree’s roots on one side only and, on the tree’s other side, he would dig a trench, and then he would just lay down that flexible trunk and limbs, lay them down in the earth and gently cover them with soil, and there the fig tree would rest, warm and protected, until spring came, when he could remove its protective covering and stand the tree up once again to greet the sun; and now in this long gray season of darkness and cold and grief (do I have to tell you over what? for isn’t it always the same – the loss of a lover, the death of a child, or the incomprehensible cruelty of one human being to another?), as I gaze out of my window at the empty space where the fig tree will stand again next spring, I think, yes, lay me down like that, lay me down like the fig tree that sleeps in the earth, and let my body rest easily on the ground – my roots connecting me to some warm immutable center – luxuriating in the heart of winter.”

creativity

Joy today: The Winter Solstice

December 21, 2019 Christa Avampato

Screen Shot 2019-12-21 at 10.03.20 AM — Photo taken by me in Central Park, New York City

“Let us love winter for it is the spring of genius.” ~Pietro Aretino

Wishing you all a restful, inspiring, and creative winter solstice.

I took this photo in Central Park. So grateful for this beautiful place that provides me views like this, great and small, every day.

creativity

Joy today: Enduring winter

March 6, 2019 Christa Avampato

53761148_10104822237788626_2514285292576309248_o — Photo taken by Christa Avampato of Honschar’s street art on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Please include this attribution when using.

Dear ones, on freeeeezing days like today (windchill in NYC was 4 degrees this morning!) I make some hot beverages, hunker down at home, and engage in creative work as I dream of spring. How do you endure? (H/t Honschar for his inspiring street art.)

creativity

A Year of Yes: Why the Winter Solstice is my favorite day of the year

December 21, 2018December 21, 2018 Christa Avampato

20181221_085444 — Central Park, Christa Avampato

See the little blue light in this photo? That’s hope. That’s the magic of the light returning to us today, the Winter Solstice. I didn’t see it when I first took the photo, only once I reflected on it.

The essay “Winter” by Nina Zolotow always reminds me what a gift winter is – a time we have to pause, reflect, and dream. I’ve re-read it dozens of times and it’s so powerful that I tear up every single time. I hope it gives you the same peace and relaxation it gives me in this long, cold, dark, and restful season of winter. Rest, my beautiful friends, and treasure the break from busy-ness that winter provides.

“In their garden there was always a wild profusion of tomatoes ripening on the vine, and leafy basil, arugula, and lettuce, and glossy purple eggplants, and red and yellow peppers, and zucchini with its long, bright blossoms, and there was always lunch at the wooden table on hot summer afternoons, with plates of pasta and bread and olives and salads with herbs, and many bottles of red wine that made you feel warm and drowsy, while bees hummed and the sprawling marjoram, thyme, and rosemary gave off their pungent fragrances, and at the end of the meal, always, inexplicably, there were fresh black figs that they picked themselves from the tree at the garden’s center, an eighteen-foot fig tree, for how was it possible – this was not Tuscany but Ithaca – Ithaca, New York, a rough-hewn landscape of deep rocky gorges and bitter icy winters, and I finally had to ask him – my neighbor – how did that beautiful tree live through the year, how did it endure the harshness of a New York winter and not only survive until spring but continue producing the miraculous fruit, year after year, and he told me that it was quite simple, really, that every fall, after the tree lost all its leaves, he would sever the tree’s roots on one side only and, on the tree’s other side, he would dig a trench, and then he would just lay down that flexible trunk and limbs, lay them down in the earth and gently cover them with soil, and there the fig tree would rest, warm and protected, until spring came, when he could remove its protective covering and stand the tree up once again to greet the sun; and now in this long gray season of darkness and cold and grief (do I have to tell you over what? for isn’t it always the same – the loss of a lover, the death of a child, or the incomprehensible cruelty of one human being to another?), as I gaze out of my window at the empty space where the fig tree will stand again next spring, I think, yes, lay me down like that, lay me down like the fig tree that sleeps in the earth, and let my body rest easily on the ground – my roots connecting me to some warm immutable center – luxuriating in the heart of winter.” ~Nina Zolotow, “Winter”

Tag: winter