Woods Wanderer

Yesterday while shoveling the driveway, it suddenly occurred to me that I was enjoying it. Not only the task at hand, but the bright sunlight breaking through the leafless trees, the blanket of fresh snow covering everything, and even the nip in the air. The air was completely still so 10 degrees didn’t feel bad at all. A finger frostbitten in years past ached a bit, but I was dressed for the weather and quite comfortable overall. I was quite comfortable despite the sweat soaking my undershirt as I worked.

Enjoying winter… What’s wrong with me?

My plow guy had cleared most of the storm’s accumulation from my driveway the night before, but there were still a couple inches of snow to push around. Instead of calling him back for a second swipe, I took care of it. Two hours of upper-body exercise – that’s how I approached the task. And lots of fresh, clean air to breathe.

It has been a mild winter this year so I’m reluctant to say that I enjoy the season, now and forever. I’ve never been a big fan of winter in the past. But after living 40 years in northern Vermont, the long white has grown on me. I wouldn’t want to live in a place where it never snows. The darkness of December still gets to me, but by February winter is just heavy precipitation and frigid temps. And springtime is right around the corner.

Part of my change of heart is due to getting older, I think. Now that I am keenly aware of my mortality, each and every day is precious. And there are simple pleasures to be had in every season. Sometimes sitting indoors sipping tea while a great wind blows is pleasure enough. The other day we lost power for a couple hours and I ended up reading by headlamp before going to bed. That wasn’t bad at all.

I still prefer spring to any other season and look forward to that unfolding soon. But these last days of winter are fine by me. Who knows? I just might break out my snowshoes and put them to good use before the big melt off happens. I’ll get a lot more reading and writing done during the next month regardless.

Tags: daylight, seasons, simple pleasures, snow, Vermont, winter

Seems like the autumnal color is a week or two late, and not nearly as vibrant as it has been in the past. Chalk that up to a run of hot days in September, I suppose. But that doesn’t change the fact that the leaves turning is as inevitable as the days getting shorter. It is, after all, that time of year.

Taking a break from work at midday to walk my dog Matika and stretch my legs, I meander along the Rail Trail for a while. The contrast between remnant summer-like green leaves and the gold, burnt orange, and rusty ones gets my attention, emptying my mind of business matters – at least temporarily. Time marches along, as the seasons attest. We are wise not to ignore it.

A caterpillar labors in front of me. Squirrels race across the trail, gathering their winter foodstuffs. The other day I saw a telltale V of geese leaving Canada. No hard frost yet, but a thin coating of it covered the top of my car a couple days ago. Yeah, we’re getting there.

On the Rail Trail, a young woman breezing past on a bicycle notices me taking a picture of the colorful foliage overhead. “Finally!” she says gleefully, “Getting rid of the green!” I don’t share her enthusiasm. The warm season is never long enough for me.

In a month or two, I’ll be missing the color of vegetative growth. Then again, seasonal change is nice. I wouldn’t want to live in Florida. I just wish it didn’t all happen so quickly. It’s hard keeping up.

Tags: fall foliage, seasonal change, seasons, time