I remember saying in 1999 I would never be a winter person. I couldn’t imagine willingly spending my free time or vacations in the cold or dark when the alternative was a golf course in the sunshine. It was absurd on it’s face and my snow-sport loving Canadian co-workers were all just a teeny tiny bit crazy. What makes me laugh is how certain I was at the time.
The wind chill here this morning is 12 below- and I read your piece just before I bundle up to go for a walk. It made me smile. I have always loved the cold weather more than the summer heat (and I do absolutely no snow sports! :) and I grew up where it was often 40 below. Even in the downtown streets of the city the pleasure is about the lack of crowds and. . . something else for me. . . . It reminds me of my own vulnerability as a small warm-blooded animal, and (happily) today's ability to survive conditions over which I have no direct control. The combination presses me up against the pleasure of being alive. Thank you for your beautiful writing.
A modern paeon extolling the beauty of Nature and its profound effect on who you are, both as a woman and an artist. Truly lovely. Growing up on a beach in North Florida, I loved winter, too. Unlike South Florida, where I live now, it could get quite nippy in winter. The tourists were largely gone, leaving the lonely, windswept beaches to a sparse number of bundled-up locals who walked, shelled, surf-cast or, like me, just sat on the dunes and drank in all the freedom and wonder of pounding surf, little scurrying sandpipers, soaring pelicans, and screeching sea gulls. We all respected each other's territory and need for silence and solitude minus the chatter and activity of the summer season. And like your little ducks and grebes, the avian "residents" never seemed to mind our presence. I miss those winter days by the shore when, like you, everything seemed to embrace me and say, "We know who you are. Welcome to our home."
The wind chill here this morning is 12 below- and I read your piece just before I bundle up to go for a walk. It made me smile. I have always loved the cold weather more than the summer heat (and I do absolutely no snow sports! :) and I grew up where it was often 40 below. Even in the downtown streets of the city the pleasure is about the lack of crowds and. . . something else for me. . . . It reminds me of my own vulnerability as a small warm-blooded animal, and (happily) today's ability to survive conditions over which I have no direct control. The combination presses me up against the pleasure of being alive. Thank you for your beautiful writing.
Thank you Oriah, I love that visual of ourselves as "small warm-blooded animal" so much.
A modern paeon extolling the beauty of Nature and its profound effect on who you are, both as a woman and an artist. Truly lovely. Growing up on a beach in North Florida, I loved winter, too. Unlike South Florida, where I live now, it could get quite nippy in winter. The tourists were largely gone, leaving the lonely, windswept beaches to a sparse number of bundled-up locals who walked, shelled, surf-cast or, like me, just sat on the dunes and drank in all the freedom and wonder of pounding surf, little scurrying sandpipers, soaring pelicans, and screeching sea gulls. We all respected each other's territory and need for silence and solitude minus the chatter and activity of the summer season. And like your little ducks and grebes, the avian "residents" never seemed to mind our presence. I miss those winter days by the shore when, like you, everything seemed to embrace me and say, "We know who you are. Welcome to our home."
Thank you Lauren. I love your description here of North Florida in winter!! Yes, yes, we know who you are. Welcome.
Beautiful! What a blessing it is to belong that way!
Thank you. I don't even suppose I knew what that feeling was until I wrote it to be honest!
I love it! I am so glad I got to watch this transition. I is "sweetness of fine chocolate" indeed!
<3 thank you Vivi