How I've Completely Changed My View on Winter

Courtesy the Internet

Like most people, I've often complained about winter being too long on the Canadian prairies. I may have even agreed with other people saying, "Well, maybe we could have one month of it at Christmas, just for variety." No one likes scraping ice off their car in the mornings and slipping on sidewalks, but I've changed my negative thinking on the subject of winter.

There's no question I froze my face and my legs some days walking to school when I was a kid. Winter could be painful and miserable. There were, however, some magical moments I can remember. I'm not talking about snowball fights or playing hockey at the local outdoor rink. I'm thinking about really harsh winter nights that I decided to venture outside out of sheer boredom.

I remember the utter quiet of it all. The fresh snow absorbing what little movement there was outside on those cold nights, or a howling wind whipping through power lines and creating a certain haunting feeling inside of me. The worse it was, the more alone you were in it. There's something about the winter landscape that's welcoming. It's like we humans were meant to exist here. It's not unnatural at all.

Decades of sedentary adult life have faded those rich memories and the feelings that accompanied them. Only now have they started to reappear as I try so hard to use winter to my health's advantage.

The other night my son and I embarked on a short trek away from the car to see if a bicycle bridge had been constructed before winter set in (he's has an unnatural interest in new roadways and related construction.) It was a Saturday night that was cool and windy with fresh snow blowing around. We walked away from the safety of the street lights and behind the houses onto the bike path that I had discovered only this summer.

It was beautiful in summer with lots of mature trees and a serene landscape that reminded me of a provincial park. When the leaves fall off the trees in September and everything is brown around here, I stop enjoying nature. But what I discovered that night was that once the snow comes, everything is beautiful again.

In the city even a moonless night can provide for a bright landscape in its darkest corners when there's snow everywhere. The green fir trees stood in stark contrast to the white waves of virgin snow around the familiar paved pathway.

Everything is quiet and peaceful in winter. Every movement and sound is amplified. The stars are brightest in the dry winter air. The cosmos is so vivid in winter it feels like it's painted onto the heavens just for you, almost within arm's reach.

We found the bridge. It was in fact there, but abandoned before completion when the snow and cold temps set in.

The field behind my house has the same beauty to it on a winter's night. Previous to now, I wouldn't have dreamed about venturing out there in winter. The idea never even crossed my mind. In spite of being surrounded by houses, the snow-covered field remains quiet and the sky brightly detailed. When the moon comes out and lights up the snow, it's feels almost like daytime.

My epic walk in -45 degree windchills last year also had me thinking about winter's beauty. In spite of the fury and the supposed danger all around me, I enjoyed the crisp fresh air and the serenity. It's not like anyone else was out there.

Now that I'm learning to love cross country skiing (can't get enough of it but I have a ways to go to master it well) I find myself having a completely opposite view on winter.

The other day I caught myself thinking, "Why is winter so short? It's only 3 good months of snow, why can't it be more?"

If I could only figure out a way to enjoy the "brown" seasons, those weeks of cold weather without snow or foliage, life would be perfect.