Someone recently said:
“Winter is a season meant to be tolerated. Never celebrated.”
I am the one complaining about the lack of winter lately, here in Canada especially. Christmas without snow was just sad to me. I didn’t like the rainy, damp, gloomy, foggy weather for December.
I don’t like being frozen either. I am not a fan of frost bite and blue fingers. I like a nice warm house and a blanket to cuddle underneath.
I also like snow. I like it for winter. I may complain of it being too cold, when I get out into a chilly car, waiting impatiently for the heat to kick in, wishing for the heat of July. Then, once I have that heat in summer, I dream of winter again.
But I still don’t like the thought that Canada wouldn’t have snow. I think we are so accustomed, in this day and age, of our warm houses and being able to turn up the heat at a moment’s notice, as having to gather firewood isn’t common anymore. We have no reason to go outside, as we’d much rather watch our televisions and be on our computers, tablets,, or smart phones indoors.
Kids don’t have to play outside for entertainment. Many adults have aching bones and would prefer to be warm.
That doesn’t mean children don’t enjoy winter activities, such as tobogganing, snowmen, and forts.
I would have done just about anything, when I was in school, to get out of going outside for recess. When I did, my friends were making forts and girls were using them to kick other girls out, not wishing to make them a part of their club. It was harsh, the weather not just.
In spite of all of this, I like that Canada and snow are synonymous. I like that Christmas and my birthday happen to include snow. I love the white world I can find, when I step out my back door in February. Sure, it gets cold and my boots and jeans end up covered in snow and wetness when I enter my house. It’s a pain, but it’s beautiful in it’s own way.
So much complaining. So much whining goes on. Who wouldn’t love to go to a tropical paradise, from time to time, but I complain about the heat just as much as I do about the cold.
I don’t have to drive in bad weather, but I do have to ride in the passenger seat, while other people drive and trust to them for my safety.
I do have many family members and other friends and those I care about who drive in snowy conditions. I worry about them a lot.
I have to face getting around in the snow, which is made more difficult when you can’t see over snow drifts and icy patches. I could break a bone in future, slipping on ice, just like anyone else. Still, I love snow.
It doesn’t last forever, but when it’s in season, it is a magical thing.
I am frozen when out in it, but I loved learning to skate again last year, after twenty years. I love the silence of a snowfall. I love the idea that no snowflake is ever the same, like people.
I love the smell of snow, even if I may end up frozen.
I am feeling a little like I am frozen, and I’m warm while I say that. I don’t need to be out in a snow bank to say it. It is January, a new year, and I am frozen by many fears. I am afraid I will accomplish nothing, that this year of 2016 will be empty and a blank void in my life. I feel frozen by indecision and by uncertainty, but I hope I can find a way to thaw from that feeling of being frozen by all of this, that I can find the courage to take risks and keep moving forward.
Linda speaks of moments and experiences, frozen in time and in memory: