I'm looking out on a world of brown and grey, staring morosely through the window as I sip a cup of lukewarm coffee. I'm afraid this is what our world will be like from now on. No more winter. No more snow.
I don't need to watch the weather report to know it deep in my bones. It's there outside my window, in that sad brown lawn, missing its white coat. We're losing something vital to our world, and the absence aches.
Is anyone else grieving? I feel like I've lost a good friend. Perhaps I'm too pessimistic, but I'm afraid this is our new reality.
Mind you, winter was never easy. I haven't forgotten the bitter morning chill, the skidding on slick sidewalks, the long hours of shoveling. I remember all too well what it's like driving white-knuckled in whiteouts on icy roads. And if you'd told me then that someday I'd be wishing for all that back, I'd probably have laughed and shaken my head.
But here we are. I fear a part of our lives is fading away bit by bit. The winter we've always known is gone, leaving a dismal, empty non-season, neither fall nor spring, just the empty space of another lost treasure.
On the mantel above our fireplace sits a snow globe, just a simple scene of a house and a snowman. I take one last sip of coffee and reach out for it. As I shake it and watch the snow swirl and settle, a hundred images fill my mind. Cold days, crisp and clear. The special tint of sunshine on snow; the colors of a sunset as it slants across a winter field. The tiny flakes that drift down, shards of crystal on a bitterly cold day; freezing winds that whip the falling snow into your face and leave your hair with a crown of glitter that melts away in an instant.
I remember the joys of winter; the fishermen out in their ice shacks joking and laughing with friends. Hockey games and ice skating, carving perfect circles on the ice. Making snowmen, leaving a brown path behind as we roll the balls one by one and hoist one on top of the other, patting them in place with snowy mittens. Falling backward and making snow angels, breathless with laughter. Frosty windows and cloudy breath and the sheer pleasure of coming inside out of the cold, stamping the snow off your boots and shrugging off your coat in a warm kitchen.
The first big snow, settling in and transforming the world. The way each winter day had its own character: sunny days with the sun sparkling on new snow, bitter, freezing days locked in silence, brief flurries that came out of nowhere, long storms that lasted for days. And finally, the slow fading from winter to spring, with the last dirty, stubborn mounds as hard as rock, until they were finally vanquished. Winter, making spring all the sweeter. Winter at its best and its worst, but a part of our lives, rich and changing.
I hope we'll still have it to enjoy, but for today, I'll bring you one last perfect snowy day.
Imagine a snowstorm moving in. A big one! You watch the weather reports and hurry out to the store to stock up on groceries. You get home just as the snow start to fall: huge white flakes in perfect crystals falling on your sleeves and shoulders, lovely and intricate. You build up the fire or turn up the heat and sit by the window with a hot cup of coffee, watching the snow falling hour after hour. Thick white flakes pile up on the windowsill. The snow on the patio table gets thicker and thicker, piled in a foot-deep blanket, a pristine circle of layers like a cake. And when it finally stops, the world is transformed - every branch lined in a symphony of black and white, with dollops of snow shaking down with a plop every time a squirrel leaps from one tree to another.
One perfect snowstorm - a fleeting treasure caught in words, a love letter to a world that's fading away. I set down the little snow globe and watch the flakes settle one last time. Then I take a deep breath and shrug on my coat, ready to meet the future head-on. Maybe, just maybe, I can do something today to help keep the treasure of that winter world alive.