I love the winter. Last night I announced to Joel that I was headed out to the barns to bring dinner scraps to the chickens. I was giddy for the walk in the snow and the night quiet. The moon was shining off the top of the barn, serving as a lighthouse to my destination. It was a quiet night and I stopped in the middle of the field to look at the stars. The puff from my breath obscured my view so I continued on, just the crunching of my boots on the snow as satisfying as tinfoil between teeth.
When I heard the radio host this morning say it's going to be a warm day and "another great day" tomorrow, where it will get up to 40 degrees, I shook my head in sadness. I am sad to hear it talked about as if the warming of our winters is a good and welcome change. I don't personally believe that a 40 degree day in December in Minnesota is a "good" day; A perfect winter day is 20 degrees and sunny. The beauty of a true Minnesota winter is being lost to the convenience of warmer weather.
Winter studying the fresh snow as it lines every tiny branch on a bare tree, and marveling when the tree comes alive in a white glitter as the sun comes through the clouds. If you get your heart rate up in deep snow and then stop for a breath, the muted softness will prompt you to take your hat off so that your heart beat can escape your inner ear and almost certainly you will close your eyes and feel your vibrant smallness.
There are the mornings when I step outside and see the cold shimmering, like looking at the world through blown glass. Our world seems to shimmer in its extremities- the heat off pavement in the summer sun, the cold off the ice and snow in the winter chill. It doesn't feel right when the seasons blend, like when I walked out to my car tonight through puddles and the smell of spring melt.
I want my world to shimmer.