From Frost to Fire

Living in the “Land of Enchantment,” winter paints a picturesque landscape. Snow flurries feather ice through the air, frost clings to the trees, and a familiar scent of piñon smoke curls from fireplaces. Don’t let the chill and permafrost fool you; the sun rarely stays hidden for long. Something about snow tunes me into silence. Or maybe it’s more like life at pianissimo. It’s counterintuitive to me but deeply calming, a stillness that feels more alive in some way. The birds, undeterred by the cold, continue their songs, offering a poignant reminder that creativity doesn’t stop in winter, it can flourish.

Winter nudges me into a quieter, more reflective headspace, my inner bear seems to favor hibernation. After the noise of the holidays, I find solace in a mid-winter stillness. With two more months of true winter ahead, I spend time gathering wood, building fires, listening to my breathing as I transition from the brisk outdoor air to the thickness of a cozy den. Normally, I hum and sing outdoors and belt it out in the kitchen. But winter encourages a quieter kind of music—melodies that linger in my head as heated rooms are less comfortable to raise your voice in, and nothing about single digits invites my shout either. My voice softens to protect itself. I live under scarves (ProTip: keep your throats warm, singers). Warm drinks linger in my hands as hot chocolate and broth become part of my daily rituals and self-love.

I often let the season direct what I listen to. After Christmas, my playlists shift once again, to different familiar favorites. Mid-Winter Songs, Whiteout, Winter, Come in from the Cold, and Blood on the Tracks have been on repeat in my head and headphones.

The Depth of Winter-Inspired Music

Morten Lauridsen’s Mid-Winter Songs captures the stark beauty and quiet intensity of winter. I first encountered this work, performing with the Donald Brinegar Singers and the Pasadena Pops, where Lauridsen himself accompanied us on piano. His harmonic language is lush and emotive, using shifting tonal centers and chromaticism to mirror winter’s contrasts—light and dark, warmth and cold. In “Mid-Winter Waking,” Lauridsen’s interplay between major and minor harmonies reflects the dualities of the season, paired with poetic lines like:

And presently dared open both my eyes,
To see through snow-smoke and the pearly stress
Of winter sunlight, palest in the west.

The shimmering effect of cluster chords, especially in the high voices, evokes images of sunlight glinting on snow. Lauridsen’s music creates an emotional world that feels intimate yet expansive, much like the season itself. If you’re a singer and you ever have the chance to perform this piece, do it. If you’re a concert goer and you feel like getting gussied up for some popular classical music by a living composer, don’t hesitate. This is the season that you will see it on programs and in concert halls.

Speaking of living composers, have I told you about Meg Baier? A SoCal native, Meg is another human that has transplanted herself to the greater Southwest. Now living in Sedona, Arizona, Meg released an EP back in November, titled Hang Fire. Released just in time for it to become part of my skin, Meg seems equally in touch with the influence of the seasons. In her archives lives a tune that belongs in the company of such tunes as “Urge for Going” (another seasonal masterpiece by Joni Mitchell). “Whiteout” takes a minimalist approach, a song that relies on open fingerpicked patterns and shifted chord shapes that slide up and down the guitar neck, creating complex harmonies with minimal fingering. The unresolved quality of the chords supports the tension and turbulence described in the lyrics:

And it’s whiteout in my mind.
Can’t tell up from down, wrong from right.
Can’t see heaven or hell, what’s loose now seems tight.

Baier’s harmonic simplicity allows the lyrics to take center stage, creating a meditative and intimate atmosphere. Her early music, including “Whiteout,” has influenced my songwriting for decades.

Tori Amos sang:

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“I get a little warm in my heart when I think of winter. I put my hands in my father’s glove,”
in another masterful tune perfect for these last cold weeks. “Winter,” from her album Little Earthquakes, also reflects themes of introspection and personal transformation. Rich with dynamic piano accompaniment that makes the mind dance along with her fingers’ plumose gestures, the song explores growth and change through the lens of winter.“When you gonna make up your mind? When you gonna love you as much as I do? Cause things are gonna change so fast” capture the vulnerability and self-reflection that winter often inspires. The interplay of harmony and text creates a deeply personal connection with the listener, inviting them not to fall into the lull of a cold haze.

Homework
Go listen. Create a mid-winter playlist. Maybe write a song or two.
I find that winter’s stillness and long nights may be uninviting to the flower but welcoming to the song. A bleak mid-winter day often provides fertile ground for my creativity, offering a sanctuary from the chaos that will return with the spring sprout. Like minor chords, which are often reduced to a description of “sad,” winter songs transcend simplistic interpretations of melancholy. Lean in, let yourself feel it all. Do your best to write it down, record it or maybe even share it.

Sidenote
Pasadena is part of my musical fabric. Performing with the Donald Brinegar Singers and the Pasadena Pops has helped shape me as an artist, and it’s a community close to my heart. The recent Los Angeles wildfires have been devastating, resulting in at least 28 deaths and the destruction of over 14,000 structures. The Palisades and Eaton fires alone have caused insured property losses estimated between $28 billion and $35 billion, marking them among the most destructive in Los Angeles history.
These fires have also exacerbated the housing crisis, with rents in some areas nearly doubling, further displacing residents. Many in the music community have been severely impacted, with some artists losing their homes and decades of work. If you’d like to help support musicians affected by these wildfires, consider donating to the following organizations:

1. MusiCares’ Los Angeles Fire Relief Effort provides financial assistance, mental health resources, and instrument replacement for music professionals impacted by the fires. The Recording Academy and MusiCares have pledged $1 million to aid those in the music community. www.musicares.org
2. Sweet Relief Musicians Fund offers grants to musicians and music industry workers for essentials, such as medical bills, loss of equipment, and living expenses. www.sweetrelief.org
   3. We Are Moving the Needle Microgrants: Wildfire Relief Fund supports early and mid-career producers, engineers, and creators who have lost studio space or gear in the wildfires. wwwwearemovingtheneedle.org