Don’t curse the weather. –Anna Andersen
This may not be a very popular stance in lieu of the last two months—but I’m not unhappy with Winter. I think we are exactly where we should be. In fact, I’m pretty happy with it! The previous two winters were dismal in the snow department, and I do admit that I was a little whiny about that at the time. This is Minnesota, the North! We normally have extreme cold and plenty of snow—it’s what we sign up for when we live here. That being said, I also live with a person who daily gets up super early, drives through snow to get to more snow, to move the snow, to sweep the snow, to shovel the snow, to put down ice melt, to take the complaints about snow and ice, and comes home—to more snow. He is not very happy with our record-breaking February snowfall. He’s ready for it to be gone. His mood does not improve when I tell him how beautiful it is!
Friday we had more snow—the lightest, prettiest, fluffiest snow with a crisp, cold temperature. Hello to March!
I kind of like to shovel—there is a soothing rhythm to it. Push the snow, lift, throw, pivot, walk back, push, lift, throw, pivot, walk, repeat again and again. It’s aerobic and strength-training all in one. It takes an hour or two to do our driveway, depending on how much snow is there. Friday evening while the snow was still falling, it was so silent, the flakes muffling the sounds. I was startled by a car going by, suddenly right there, with no approaching sound. Shoveling can be a meditative movement, a silent communing with Nature—if you let it.
We have paths through the snow—to the compost bin and to the bird feeders. The paths are packed with snow, and an occasional wrong step sinks me thigh-high, filling boots of any size with cold snow.
The garden is full of snow—up to the top of the fence. Snow is a good insulator—we had lost some perennials in the last couple of years because of frigid temperatures and too little snow. It also provides needed moisture for the soil and plants for the coming growing season. The down side is the deer and rabbits have little to eat except for trees and shrubs that are above the snow line.
Spring and summer do seem far away when the signs of summer—the canoe and patio—are buried in snow. But there is a rhythm of activity and rest that the seasons force upon us.
The bank of snow by the house occurs when we ‘rake the roof.’ We haven’t done it in years, but when we have this much snow, it helps prevent ice dams from occurring and possible water damage inside the house. It’s a hard job—the rake is long-handled and unwieldy, and one has to stand and walk in deep snow while pulling the snow off the roof. Not much meditative magic in this job.
A couple of other jobs that we undertake with this much snow is clearing snow in front of the mailbox so the delivery person can get close enough to put the mail in the box. The snow plow piles the snow around the mailbox—and we shovel or snowblow it away. We are also asked to shovel the snow away from the fire hydrant in order to have the hydrant available to fire fighters if they should need it at our house.
In a way, snow is magical—if the temperature is just warm enough, the moisture falls as rain. With below-freezing temps, these miraculous crystals form and gently fall from the sky! Snow can be light or heavy, soft or hard, dangerous or fun. And in a couple of weeks, it will melt and be gone!
My Grandma Anna sometimes chided my Dad to not curse the weather—that weather was the source of their livelihood. She didn’t downplay the hardship that weather can bring—and back then, she knew about hardship. But she knew the same weather that brought too much snow or rain, or not enough, was the same that brought sunshine needed for crops to grow, the breeze to dry the wet soil, and once again, rain to nourish the plants. She was wise and steadfast in her faith. Winter and snow can temper us, teach us prudence, propel us to do things we don’t really want to do, and remind us that Nature is not here to do our bidding. There is a season for everything—even the hard things. To temper steel is to improve its hardness and elasticity by rounds of heating and cooling. Perhaps that’s what the seasons—the heat of summer and the cold of winter—do for us. Hard hearts soften, soft hearts toughen, good judgement overcomes selfish wants, and unfounded fear and restriction give way to peace and openness. Like steel, we become more resilient. Like Nature, we become closer to God.
