Fields of Winter

Harry Golden once said that when most people say they love winter, what they really mean is that they love the feeling of proof against the winter. That is, they like being warm and cozy inside, or a good fire in the winter time, or Christmas, etc.

What I mean is that I love winter. I love the bare branches of trees with the moon at the top. I love seeing the shape of the fields and the golden grass that grows in winter. I love the way people walk briskly by while I walk Max, my dog. Horses are energized in winter, with their breath streaming out.

Light has a particular quality in winter. It is whiter, and illuminates more. The shadows are sharper in winter. Only pin oaks and evergreens have leaves in the coldest time of year. Bark is darker on trees and then there is the miracle of snow.

Like manna from Heaven snow falls. It melts on your hands or sticks to the grass. It forms an icy rim around ponds, and clings to the banks of streams. It collects on roofs and windshields. Snow tastes like daffodils scent in springtime.

Crocuses grow in snow, their purple tops capped by white, the green leaves unfurling underneath.

We are heading for a time of no snow, no cold. We are heading for the warming of the Arctic and the destruction of polar bears and penguins. We are on fire, hell on Earth. 

Only you can start the change. Vote against climate change. We can't turn back but we can head for the future and fix what we have started.