Enduring the Snow Globe

/ roughwighting
Photo by Susan Licht (http://lichtyears.com/)

Photo by Susan Licht (http://lichtyears.com/)

When I think about it, I realize that I could be in a worse place.

Like Siberia. Or Algeria.

Actually, maybe Algeria is nice. I’m not sure, but I know it’s a heck of a lot warmer than this stretch of New England marshland in mid-winter at 1:32 p.m.

salmon, fish under ice

Photo from Silver Pines Lodge.

Truly, most anyplace has to be more appealing than this swathe of cobbled path that borders a wild bird sanctuary for geese, egrets, swans and – down down underneath the icy marsh – sleeping salmon.

My teeth chatter in unintelligible words as the wind whips a brittle, brisk slap across my face. My eyes water, and immediately icicles form on my eyelashes and lower lids.

Damn, I hate the cold.

Yet I trudge on in my L.L. Bean, flannel-infused, rubber-soled, mid-calf fake suede boots, hearing my heavy corduroy pants swish swish as my legs move woodenly. When I get home, if I get home, and peel off these pants, my legs will be as red as ripe tomatoes.

And numb as doorknobs.

But still, I trudge. I curl my fingers into a fist within my heavy wool mittens, trying to envision some blood still circulating in my hands.

And still, I trudge.

Snowflakes suddenly fly down from the sky. I become one with the Earth’s gray-domed snowglobe, the flakes glittering gloomily in the low afternoon light.

Still, I trudge on.

Because I hear it.

cattails, winter, Great MeadowI hear the sounds of winter as sharp as blunt sticks clapping together in harmony.

flyinginthesnowglobebysusanlicht

Photo by Susan Licht.

I hear the roar of approval from the brown-leafed oak branches and withering tall stalks of cattails.

I hear the cacophony of silk swishing in front and above me as dozens of winter birds alight into the flurried sky.

My mouth opens – I taste the iced winter flurries as I let out a low guttural exclamation of delight.

Nature endures me, ensnares me, and repairs me.

Now, now I can hurry home to the fireplace and my slippers, a cup of chamomile tea and a soft fuzzy blanket.

But within myself . . .

I’m already home.

66 thoughts on “Enduring the Snow Globe”

  4. Oh my that first picture looks so cold – and that writing made me feels cold as well. Don’t want to be cold, it’s supposed to be summer here although the weather god seems to have other ideas at the moment lol

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      • Pamela, I too cannot think of anything to fit straight on. My first thought was to Patti Smith. I swear she has something for us. And surely, Dylan must have something to offer. I’ll ponder, but in the meantime found this new through the wonders of the www.

        “Every day I trudge up the hill
        Step, slowly, laboriously
        follows step, forced on by my will
        Cold, the sun shines gloriously

        As I walk thoughts come to mind
        I welcome these guests with a smile
        Come, I say, leave the cold behind
        And let us be friends for a mile”

        Elia Michael

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        • That is a lovely poem! Trudging to the sound of our thoughts. Yes, I think that’s the best benefit of trudging (besides having nature knock us on the head saying, ‘hey, looka here’). Trudging thoughts are perhaps the very best ones.

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  7. You and Frank hate the cold and yet, there you are, out in the elements making your body work. Atta girl, GB.

    STAY WARM and happy last weekend.

    GBMV

    Sent from my iPad

    >

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  9. Wish I could get to that place of acceptance of winter! I can identify thoroughly with the slippers, fireplace and blanket part, at least! Love your writing and admire your endurance!

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  11. Makes me think of one of my favorite quotes…
    “I believe in God, only I spell it Nature.” Frank Lloyd Wright
    Yes!!! Also, loved the “numb as doorknobs.” simile!

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  12. You are a real trooper, trudging through the wet cold winter day. Keep up the good work and reward yourself with a cozy fire and warming drink. You deserve it. Happy holidays.

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  13. So lovely.

    I’ve been spending a lot of time in New Hampshire lately, and it can be a tad nippy, that’s for sure. Not that it’s all sunshine and warmth at home in Ohio. 🙂

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  15. Brrrrrrrrr…. freezing now! LOL! Love your writing though. So descriptive you put me on the path with you! Gee thanks Pamela! ha ha!
    It is a frigid 43 degrees outside with rain, clouds, gloom… blech! I am in a “mood” as my hubby puts it…….
    “Let the sunshine in. Let the sunshine in!” 😀

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    • Funny how our perspective changes depending on where we live, you Texan, you! I thought 50 was really cold when I lived in the bay area. Now if it’s over 32, I’m dancing a jig.
      Hope your holidays are full of sunshine!

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  16. Sometimes when we find ourselves “trudging” along, it is only when we look back upon our footprints that we realize just how valuable each step along the way proves to be. Beautiful and engaging prose that can’t help but make my heart smile 😉

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    • You’re just saying that to make me jealous. I AM jealous! Loved your post about the Spanish horse show with flamingo dancer and Rodeo Jack. Sigh. I enjoy seeing your new world in old world Spain.

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  26. Wow! Your words described that trudging along the path in the snow and cold so well I got chills; easier to endure while sitting outside in Benicia, California. I will embrace my new mantra that you gifted me, “Nature endures me, ensnares me, and repairs me. I am closest to my God when I’m in nature and aware of the infinite beauty that nature hordes. Feeling very grateful for your “enduring” friendship. Celebrated 90 days last week. A new beginning feels good again.

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    • Chuck – of all people, I knew you would most appreciate that mantra. When the words came to me, I was surprised and delighted at their truth. Yes, nature will endure, ensnare, and repair us. Here’s to 90 days, and 90 days more, and more. With nature’s help. xo

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  28. I love how you express yourself. Your trudge reminded me of winters past (we live in south-central Florida now). When growing up in PA, one year the snow was so deep I had to kick a path to the dog house. I wasn’t strong enough to shovel it. It was at least two feet deep. I love the crisp whiteness of snow, but I don’t like the cold. Arthur-itis gives me fits in damp weather, so cold is definitely not on my good list. If only I could sit by the window with a cup of hot chocolate or hot mulled cider and the watch the cardinals again in the snow-covered spruce, and the rabbits making trails in the new-fallen snow—without the cold.

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  29. Thanks for liking my blog. Yours made me homesick. I spent 30 winters in Maine but now live in NC. How I miss the peace and beauty of a winter storm and also cross-country skiing.!

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  32. Beautifully written! We had snow yesterday; a dusting, yet the sight confirmed that it is indeed winter here in the deep south.
    Well done.
    I may move to MA this year…look forward to the snow!

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