A Frosty Winter Walk at Sunrise

Calm, light and beauty

Hello, I’m Claudia, and Happy Quiet Life is where I share my view on the world as a Highly Sensitive Person. You’ll find reflections and stories about slowing down & living simpler, reconnecting with nature, mental health & self-care, books & reading adventures. Welcome!

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I love this quiet time of day, when hardly anyone is out and about and I have the town and its streets all to myself.

No cars drown out the birdsong, the chirping of sparrows in the hedge, the blackbird’s call on the highest branch or the song of the titmice. (I hear and see many of them this winter.)

I’m heading for the lake.

The sky is clear and blue, pastel shades spread from the east before the sun rises.

It’s a very special atmosphere that I love. I’m a morning person. I prefer sunrises to sunsets. I love when the darkness recedes and the light emerges. That’s the direction I prefer.

It is frosty on this morning at the end of December. Freezing cold at -7 degrees Celsius. But there is no wind, hoarfrost covers the landscape. There’s not a cloud in sight. Only the contrails from the aeroplanes cut through the clear blue sky, but they look like falling stars and are so high above that I can’t even hear them this morning. Nothing disturbs the peace.

The silhouettes of the trees in winter fascinate me greatly. What a presence in the landscape. The windless cold, every sound carries far, but there is hardly any except for the chattering of the wild geese, a large group of perhaps 30 or 40 on the ice on the lake. There are mallards among them too.

I cannot hear my breath, but I can see it, and I can feel the moisture in my scarf, which I have pulled up half over my face to protect myself from the severe frost, covering my mouth and reaching almost to my nose.

There are surprisingly many people at the lake for this time of day on a Sunday. Two young men, joggers. An elderly couple with Nordic walking poles. Two old women deep in conversation. A nature photographer with a camera bag and an impressive telephoto lens. Two people with dogs. But above all, people like me. Out and about alone, wrapped up in their thick jackets, hats and scarves, hands in their pockets, quietly minding their own business, smiling and saying a brief hello when we meet, but with no intention of stopping to chat. My kind of people at this time of day and year.

And then there’s solitude again.

I have walked halfway around the lake, now seeing the allotments in front of me. Hoarfrost coats plants, houses and fences alike. I get disctracted by all the glittering details that transform the familiar landscape, and as I cross the bridge over the small river, I realise that I must walk a little faster to be on time.

When I arrive at the lake promenade with a view across fields and meadows on the edge of town, the sun alreay rises as the most beautiful glowing ball, the gold pushing all the pastel shades aside.

I don’t often get to witness this because there are always houses blocking the view, but this time I am in the right place at the right time.

I smile.

A quiet happiness is rising inside.

I close my eyes and just enjoy being here.

Peace and quiet.

Life is good.

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In the meantime the New Year has blazed in on the back of a storm, with lightning and thunder in tow, and snow in its wake. What a temperamental start to 2026. Here’s to finding calm in the midst of storms and discovering small joys!

✨ Happy New Year! ✨

I don't do resolutions, set myself any big goals for the new year, I don't overload it with expectations, either of myself or of the year.

These are my joys and my anchor, always: writing, nature and a quiet life. And that’s enough for me. 🌿