Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – December 11, 2004

 Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – December 11, 2004

The Splendour Of Winter

Short Stories From 10 Years Ago – December 11, 2004 – Winter descends upon us with a shimmering beauty unlike that of any other season. Spring, summer and autumn are quieter, more subtle, less evident. The day of the arrival of winter weather may not coincide with the winter solstice.

This year on December 21st we’ll have the shortest day and the longest night of the year. Starting on December 22nd the days will grow longer and the cycle of the seasons will begin anew. The view outside my window today is indicative of the fact that winter hasn’t really arrived yet. The light mist of rain from early this morning changed to serious flurries this afternoon. It’s not the first snowfall of the year. We had one last week that arrived and melted within twenty-four hours. Today’s snowflakes seem somehow more official because it’s closer to Christmas.

From This

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It’s really just a light dusting of snow, but it’s pure and sparkling. Snow has its own beautiful energy. The trees in my garden are dressed with pristine white and the path to the gate is perfect and untouched. That will change as soon as I take Augie out for a stroll in the lane. My outdoor lantern and my garden bell are wearing snow caps and Arthur, Roger and Duncan my long suffering gargoyles are adjusting to colder climes atop their concrete perches.

To This

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They too are outlined with frosty flakes of white. I enjoy these first snowfalls and their power to transform the landscape from the quiet dullness of fall into an exquisite world of pure white. The lane will be undisturbed until the first car passes by, tire treads leaving a scar and changing the beauty of the unmarked snow. My car stands behind the garden gate, blind and shrouded. Until its frozen cover is disturbed my car’s power is quiet and ineffective.

It won’t happen today, but when it comes, there is something awe-inspiring and majestic about a winter storm. As I sit indoors in my warm, safe home and listen to the howling gusts of wind and watch the snow swirling in great blinding circles, I’m greatly humbled by nature. The next snowfall then chooses to arrive as a soft blanket of huge, dewy flakes that quilt the earth in glistening splendour. I love to see the snow fall this way and to watch as it weighs down the boughs of evergreen trees and covers every trace of the drab ground.

Fences, hydro lines, rooftops, church steeples and the great, tall city trees are outlined in winter white. It’s hard to believe that something this beautiful can wreck such havoc on wayward travellers as roads and sidewalks become congested, icy and unsafe. In spite of the pitfalls the weather can bring, this early snowfall reminds me of childhood days of skating, tobogganing, and constructing snow forts. Afterwards it was creating snowmen made of huge balls of snow, so heavy that we could hardly lift the torso and head into place atop the first big ball of snow that was used as a base.

Snow angels always brought giggles of delight, snow ball fights and a hand full of snow down your best friend’s neck were a must. It was all innocent, delicious fun and we played outdoors until we were so tired we could hardly stand. Then with rosy cheeks and soggy mittens we trooped inside for cookies and hot chocolate. There wasn’t a television, a video game or a DVD in sight. We could hardly wait to dry out and get back to our outdoor games. What a shame adults don’t make snowmen anymore!

The duality of the seasons – warm and cold – is part of the intriguing mystery of our earth and I can’t imagine living where the seasons didn’t change. I am, after all a Canadian, and part of my heritage is a slight tendency to complain about the weather. But today, I’ll have none of that. My fireplace is keeping me snug and warm. Augie is sleeping at my feet, Ziggy stretched out in a leather club chair, yawns and then closes his eyes again.

I have a mug of steaming tea with honey and a Patricia Cromwell “Kay Scarpetta” thriller close at hand. Outside is a beautiful winter landscape. All too soon I’ll be cursing the next heavy snowfall, but for now I’m content and in a holiday frame of mind. The twinkling Christmas lights on the loft across the street are beautiful and just for today, winter has never looked more appealing or been more welcome.

P.S. – December 11, 2014 – and ten years later – we have just had our first serious snow fall in Toronto. My 3 dogs have churned up the back garden and are looking at me with muzzles caked in snow. The beauty of this first blanket of winter white still touches my heart.