I grew up in the upstate New York snowbelt. The lake effect moisture would get picked up over the Great Lakes and it would “pour” down on our home in snowflakes the size of a quarter…sometimes half dollars.
Seems some parts of the country could use a little snow these days. So much heat…so many fires. All has one scratching your head, asking, what’s going on.
An appreciation for Mother Nature’s normal pattern of four seasons is something we grasp for…it used to be clear-cut. Summer ends…Fall begins…Fall ends…Winter begins…Winter ends…Spring begins…Spring ends…Summer begins.
If you have never lived in a snowbelt, it delivers a way of life that is not explainable. Snowbanks higher than you are tall. Drifts that turn six inches into twelve or more. And the cold comes in without warning…one, two and three dog nights are to be expected; you’ll begin to realize what freezing really is.
Now that we have the climate established…what about the fun?
Snowmobiles were the mainstay when I was growing up. There were fields and orchards behind our house, and it was part of our town life to hop on a snowmobile on a Saturday and make our way on an already created path, or one you created.
My delight was cross-country skiing, for others it was downhill skiing. Both define the winter season.
How about ice fishing, and winter camping?
Or simply building a snowman, or igloo. At eight years old, it was in an igloo that a girl first kissed me. Is that the normal age?…I don’t know. Mom always said I was a late bloomer.
Snowball fights…careful there. My father got hit by a snowball right in front of me once. Broke my heart.
Now for the good stuff…sleigh rides, sledding, skating. I haven’t gone a sleigh ride myself, but I intend to.
Don’t despise the snow…it’s actually a friend.
And if you haven’t ever seen the photographs of Ansel Adams, you must.