The winter storm pushes me inside today. I seek the warmth of the fire and the curl of my toes around the softness of home.
I love the gentle silence of the snowflakes filling the air, the crunch of the cold underneath my boots…oh wait, that’s me ripping through the pages of the calendar, frantically counting how many days til spring!
Today, in Mississauga, ON there is a lot of snow!! Yes, yes, I can hear you family as you call out from Kingston and the Ottawa area!…you probably have more snow than we have seen here in a very long while, but seriously this is a mega dump, more than we have seen for a very long while!
We are weak. Okay, I’m weak. It’s February and I’m ready for the spring, it’s true.
There are some that enjoy the snow, and at the beginning I do, truthfully, but let’s face it, there’s a lot to be said for the spring…for one it precedes summer!
There are many who wax poetically about the winter months and I do attempt to share their enthusiasm. Here, with Robert Frost’s poem Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, I enjoy the sense of solitude he portrays and “the sweep of easy wind and downy flake”:
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there’s some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
However, I shiver at the thought of the “frozen lake” and while wishing again for the comforts of home, I also feel the ache of loneliness that lingers for a while after I read the last lines. If you hold any sadness, I believe it is winter’s wind that will remind you of your loss.
Therefore, I shall lean towards Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as he calls up the magic of summer:
That beautiful season the Summer!
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light;
and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
I believe there is wonder in all four of our seasons in Canada; however, summer’s night does indeed hold a sense and smell of endless possibilities. I think bits and pieces of childhood holds tight to the summer wind and that is what makes us laugh as the sun warms our faces.
Anton Chekhov holds the truth when he stated, “people don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.” He has a lovely point there, and this is a quote I will add to my favourites, however the driveway has filled up with snow again and I’m beginning to hate our new yellow shovel.
Here’s to those who enjoy the snow on their face, and to those who dream of summer flowers!