This Side of Winter

We had been there before—on the other side of Winter—when the wish for Spring was ardent and within our reach. But at that time, the thick cover of snow and warmer, stronger sun had ‘iced’ the trails, and we could not even walk down the steep slopes to the banks of the grand Mississippi River. This time we walked through dry, crispy leaves, down the steep slope, right to the edge of the water. The sky was cloudy, the wind brisk, the temperature hovering around freezing. On this side of Winter, we were filled with more reluctance, almost a resentment that Autumn had not played nice and eased us into the fray of Winter.

A couple of days of strong wind had bared the brilliant golden Maples and Birch trees. Ash and Linden leaves were long gone, but the Oak trees still clenched their rusty orange and red leaves in a last hurrah. The Mississippi River County Park had a bluff full of Oaks, Pines, and Cedars, and at their feet was a chock-full River.

We had the opportunity to be in the neighborhood of the River for a week, so we visited the park three different days. The first day of exploration with the camera had my attention focused outward to what the Park had to offer on that chilly day.

The second day, we explored the bluff trails.

The third day, I had a heated and heavy heart, and I went down to the River without a word to my walking partner, and I barreled through the trails hoping to discharge some of that heaviness. Halfway mindful of the early setting sun, I turned around after getting part-way down a loop trail and studied the map to see which way would get us back to the car. Since the River was so high, large parts of the peninsula and trail were covered with water. We went cross-country through the trees and brush to get around the water-logged spots, and I had a glimpse of pleasure in that endeavor.

I have to remember that this side of Winter feels different than the other side of Winter, no matter what lay at your feet. One of the gifts of age is knowing you have been there before—‘there’ being a tough time, a difficult experience, or a crushing blow to your heart—and knowing you will get through it to a better place. But this side of Winter is a daunting place—you have to get out the gear, bundle up, put your head down, and use your determination to take the next step and then the next one. The River and Life flows on, learning and wisdom grow like a sturdy Oak, the starry crown guides our actions, even when the trail is obscured and we have to blaze our own trail. And at any given time, on any given day, we can pray, “Good Lord, show me the way.”

*from ‘Down in the River to Pray’, a traditional African-American spiritual