Thoughts on Winter

1 03 2013

Michigan winter

Michigan winter

Once again I waken to a blanket of white outside my window. The winter has been consistent, snow an almost daily occurrence. Some days it floats down in large, fluffy flakes, gently landing on the ground with graceful ease. Other days the wind drives it wilfully sideways, forcing it to fly across the top of the white quilt beneath. The one consistent factor is the cold. You can’t have snow without the cold.

Snow can be beautiful. It can be graceful. It can be brutal. It can be unforgiving. It can be fun. It can be the enemy. It’s all about perspective.

I look out and see beauty. My house is warm, I don’t have anywhere I have to go today, and the view is lovely as I write this post. The flakes dancing in the wind create a winter scene I enjoy without discomfort. I am an observer.

The homeless old man under the highway overpass sees another day of severe cold, another day of wondering how much longer he will need to endure the brutal winter, another day of finding ways to keep the fire going. He does not see the beauty in his cold existence, only the hardship.

The child eager to build a snowman and learn how to make snowballs sees adventure, excitement, a day of play. He doesn’t mind the cold because he is dressed in warm clothes, and when he finally feels the cold he knows there will be a warm house and a cup of hot chocolate waiting for him. He loves the snow.

The senior who sits in her wheelchair at the nursing home sees the snow and remembers days of struggle as she and her young husband worked the farm and kept the wood stove going in the clapboard house. Freezing cold in the morning, she would start the fire and have the kitchen cozy and warm when the children got up. Evenings she would boil water, pour it into quart jars, and wrap them in towels to use as foot warmers for the children in their icy upstairs bedrooms. She smiles remembering the joy of children with red cheeks and frosty breath as they chased each other in the knee-deep snow. She has fond memories of the snow.

Perspective. It’s interesting how differently we each see things, depending on our perspective.

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One response

1 03 2013
Charlotte Loveland

Beautifully written…p.s…. I ❤ the fresh fallen snow, the slowly drifting flakes, the glistening beauty, rosy cheeks, snowmen, sledding, warm glowing fire, hot chocolate, … nAs you said, it’s all in your perspective…

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