The written loom

There’s a quiet little ritual I return to each summer, right when the sun begins to melt the air and the sea salt lingers on my skin:
I close the curtains, turn on the air conditioner, and press play..  And just like that, snow begins to fall in my living room..

You see, for years now, July has meant one thing: Christmas movies. In the middle of summer.
A full cinematic marathon of snowflakes, gingerbread, candlelight, and sleigh bells, right when the heat outside is frying the pavement and the watermelon is dripping down my fingers.

It all began not as a joke or whim, but as part of my crafting life. Every creator knows: we work on Christmas in the summer, ornaments, advent calendars, handmade ideas that must be ready long before the season starts.. And while I cut, plan, and dream of winter wonderlands, those snowy movies become my mood board, my soft transition into the festive spirit.

There’s comfort in watching people wrap gifts while I’m holding a fan.. There’s balance in seeing fireplaces while sipping iced coffee..
And sometimes, in the middle of July’s bright noise, I need the whisper of a gentle snow to hush the world for a while..

I used to watch them with a friend, our secret summer Sundays.. Now I watch alone, but never lonely..
There’s always a cup of something cold, a bowl of fruit, and that flicker of magic on screen that reminds me:

Christmas isn’t a date. It’s a feeling. A quiet place inside you. A soft bell that rings, even in the sun..

So here I am, again, watching snow fall while the fan spins.. Planning for December in the middle of July..
And feeling, once more, at peace in a world where Christmas can come early..

So if you ever find yourself longing for quiet magic in the middle of summer.. don’t wait for December..
Close the blinds, press play, and let the snow fall.. Because sometimes, the heart just needs a little Christmas.. even in July..

Tatiana..