This morning, as I forced a crowbar of consciousness between my eyelids to coax them out of the sweet cocoon of sleep, I heard a bird. A single, sung, string of notes, like a flutist practicing her frills before a big performance. It didn’t last more than a single bar, but it was enough to flash Spring across my mind, warm my cold soul, reinforce that our sunlight temperance was, like all this snow, only temporary.
I suffer during the winter months. As soon as we lose Fall to those clocks who think that somehow giving us an hour will make up for all the long darkness, my energy slumps. The timely affliction is technically called Seasonal Affective Disorder, which I admit sounds like a completely made up thing to anyone who has never been hit by its unforgiving, inexplicable symptoms.
Medical research suggests it’s partly a deficiency in Vitamin D, a lack of exposure to daylight, a chemical void that can be fixed by little lamps, little pills, and little jabs of optimism. But the sulking pseudo-depression feels like more than that. It feels like someone dumped sand into your engine, like you’re pumping old, dirty oil into your brain to try to lubricate it, like your whole body is in serious need of a tune-up. Your car will start after some laboring and you can technically drive, but it’s a shuddering, slow affair, and you’re worried your clutch is going to slip at any second.
My energy isn’t the only thing that wanes; everything I hold onto and love seems muted by January grey. I find my ideas are trite, my confidence lacking, my creativity stagnant. This year’s winter was made worse by the chemicals having emotions to share a playground with, which lead to several weeks of getting little done, and then feeling especially bad about how little had gotten done.
But even if the plant looks brown and dead on the surface, the roots are strong and patient.
The little signs of spring – an early birdsong, a peeping crocus, a late-winter release of a favorite beer from a favorite brewery – start to pull me out of my mental morass. The Spring seasonals, be them buttercups or bees or beers, mark a turning point, when I feel the real me, the one who has been hibernating, shake the sleepy sludge from his shoulders and rise to greet the long rays of sun.
I’ve waffled on seasonals before, sometimes thinking they’re a bit too gimmicky for their own economic good. But there’s something about the rebirth of classic styles that makes Spring my favorite. Long gone as the spices of winter warmers and the gourdy-sweetness of the pumpkin patch, replaced by lagers of long tradition, pilsners and helles and all the bright bitterness the comes with. Hops don’t seem as heavy in those lower ABV beers you share a warm breeze with, and suddenly you’re not bound to your couch or your stout to hide from the bad kind of bitter, the one that howls on winter wind yelling at you to stay indoors.
I know Nugget Nectar from Troegs isn’t really a Spring seasonal. But it’s a herald for me. A knight, clad in brown and orange, sitting on a hill top with banner held high. His sole presence is enough to remind me that he has an army is at his back, an army made of baby animals and beautiful buds, an army armed with and by life, ready to put winter where it belongs: behind us.

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.” ― Anne Bradstreet
Tagged: beer, birds, craft beer, flowers, nugget nectar, sad, seasonal affective disorder, songs, spring, troegs, winter
❤
You make me want to be a better drinker. (Also wordsmith.)
#Olivermakesmewantto
The best part about living in Florida is NOT feeling all those sensations you describe, Oliver. I spent many years in the Midwest and on the East Coast, and my future plans include a move to Portland, Oregon, but for now I luxuriate in the sunshine (even though it is through a window; when will someone invent a computer screen I can take to the pool?). I poise my glass in anticipation of, well, another essay by Oliver Gray! How else will I know what to purchase when I trek to Total Wine? 😉
I’ve only ever known a climate with four distinct seasons, but I’d love to have a nice, warm, sunny winter one day.
I’m a little late with the Nugget Nectar recommendation, but hopefully you can still find it. Well worth the price of a six-pack. In my top 10, for sure.
Thanks for reading, as always, Candace 🙂
Oh, man. Nugget Nectar is a perennial favorite of mine. Also: as always, your prose is spectacular.
Thank you sir!
Damn Dude! Again, beautiful stuff. The beer is pretty good too. 😉
I was lucky enough to get a taste of the warm months ahead this past weekend during a brief visit to the Sunshine State. Sadly, I didn’t get to do much Craft Beer hunting (I’m on the prowl for a can of Florida Cracker and anything else by Cigar City), but I at least got to enjoy a brief blast of warmth and sunshine. Here’s hoping that we have a spectacular Spring and a warm, but not ridiculously hot summer.
Cheers Amigo!
I can cheers to some coming warmth. I could even do a ridiculously hot summer, if I had plenty good beer to keep me cool 🙂
Well when you put it that way! And how about some Mojito chasers? Sooooo refreshing! 😀
Silver rum suggestions?
Oops. Forgot to reply. Brugal, Papa’s Pilar, Barbancourt, and Appleton Estate are probably all good options. I’m far from an expert though.
Thanks for another great journey, Oliver. As a lover of big snowstorms, I was oddly a bit mad this weekend to be missing the storm of the century back home in Missoula, MT. I resolved instead to do multiple runs outside for the first time in three months.
I stopped for a break while running the Huckleberry Trail in Blacksburg in a refreshing 60 degrees and filtered sunlight and that’s when I heard it – multiple bird calls. It put a smile back on my face.
Coincidentally, I picked up my first Nugget Nectar to toss in the suitcase. I’ll be sure and crack it later this week. Probably while digging out and noticing the still silent airways.
I think you’ll really enjoy the NN. One of Troegs’ best, and that’s saying something, given the quality of their whole line-up.
I’ll try to save some snow for you 🙂
What a beautifully written post! I definitely feel the same way about some Spring seasonals.
Thank you for reading, Beth!
This puppy is springing up all around us in Delaware. I definitely could see this as the Robin in the craft beer world (not the Burt Ward kind).
Sorry I missed this comment, Ed!
Gotta love the Nugget Nectar. I’d argue that it’s best in style, but I’ve admittedly only had a few Imperial Ambers to date.
Glad to see this red-breasted bottle gracing stores near you.