Snow is a normal thing here in Central Minnesota. Our last spring snowstorm was in April, and now it isn’t even the mid-mark of November and we have nearly 14 inches. Many years the first substantial snowfall comes after Thanksgiving and stays the rest of the winter, blanketing the ground with white well into the spring months.
It’s normal to see snow on the hardy cedar trees scattered throughout our woods. Their branches hold the whiteness in winter-postcard splendor.
It’s expected to see snow on the driveway and sidewalk. It is the site of the winter workout with shovels poised at the house and garage doors. On a snow-stormy day, one can choose many reps with lower weights or less reps with heavy weights. Even wielding the snowblower through the plowed windrow of snow at the end of the driveway provides its own workout.
Cardinals and snow go together. As soon as the snow flies, the cardinals swoop in to the feeders looking picturesque in their scarlet plumage.
And our Black Lab loves the snow, leaping through the belly high fluff and plunging her head in for a mouthful of snow cone delight.
It’s a winter garden of interest when the snow lands and mounds up on spent seed heads of perennials and on the rough branches of the oak trees. Even the lingering leaves of the honeysuckle don’t look out-of-place in the snowscape.
But this is the picture that has been on my mind since I took it on Tuesday. The delicate, still-blue petals of the Monkshood flower, not long past its prime, are filled with snow. This tells the story of the early snowstorm and exemplifies the unexpected.
Minnesotans know snow. We know frigid temperatures, long months of winter, being prepared, snow fun, discomfort and hard work, winter boots and hats, and snow weariness.
The snow-filled Monkshood flower reminds me of our vulnerabilities. The vibrant, late-blooming flower looks fragile in its frozen state. But there is also a haunting loveliness and a porcelain-like strength to it. No matter how prepared or how hard-working we are, there will be times when unexpected things happen. We are all vulnerable in certain ways and sometimes it takes an early snowstorm to see the beauty and strength of our own frailties.
Leave a Reply