Hush and Slush

Many great things come from the quiet squall of winter.  There is snuggling to a cozy fire, house cleaning and warm cashmere sweaters.  There is also pot roasts and pot pies, homemade hot chocolate and in-home dining.  Also, covering most of the land, is snow.  Its truly amazing how the city can go from green in the spring and summer, to shades of auburn and copper in the fall and then head first into a white wonderland come winter.  Snow, for some, is inconvenient and depressing.  Snow for others means skiing, snowmen and ice skating.  Waking up very early in the morning as I do everyday of the week, I often get the opportunity to sit in the hush of a sky dusting the city with snow.  White and pure as it falls from nowhere, up there; it seems to quiet things down.  As the snow falls, I seldom hear birds chirping, cars screeching or people yelling.  The trees even seem to stand still and accept their icing.   When it snows, its always just cold enough to keep the snow from melting before the ground stops it, but not so cold you aren't able to go outside for a walk and catch a few snowflakes on your tongue or cheek.   My favorite site as the snow walls atop previous resident snow, is the look of things untouched and unblemished.  Foot tracks are covered and all the cars look alike blanketed in the white, heavenly powder.   I have a large window in my kitchen that looks east towards another building.  In between me and the neighboring abodes there is a large space where the snow is able to fall and blur out my view of that building.  As I bake or cook and while its snowing, my tendency to slow down and revel in hand squeezing lemons or mixing pasta batter with my hands is heightened.  Being the favorite room in my house, the kitchen during a snow shower is the hub of all my senses.  The stove is warm, the food is hearty and full bodied and the fruit that perfumes the batters seems much more vibrant.

Now, understandably, the snow melts.  Salt is poured on it from loud oversized trucks and the sun tans it to a slush.  Its this turning point that the beauty of the fresh snow becomes gloom  of brown, impassable, wet globs of distraction.  Cars begin to pass you by throwing muck from its tires onto your pants and coats.  People are hopping in an obstacle course of puddles as they try to avoid making the wrong sinking step into an existing, camouflaged puddle.  The slosh of the city gets louder and louder and the quiet of what began the day becomes the chaos that keeps the city alive.  

Hush or slush; winter seems like a renewal to me.  Its a few months of starting over in a sense.  When everything is living and blooming and hurried during the first 3/4's of the year, the land and we the people are in need of a rest come winter.   I view it as a kind of retreat.  All things become dormant.  The land, trees and animals rest.  People hide and re-nourish.  And, in time, it begins again.  I look forward to Spring this year, but I am not ready to hurry up winter.  I still have a few more roasts to cook and chili's to make.  I also have cupboards to be cleaned and walls to paint.  These are just a few of the things that I need to accomplish so I can enjoy the Spring, the Summer and the Fall without chores and bores.   So, in good  humor, I write to the snow: "Good day snow!! Thank you for the hush. Please don't stay too long into the Spring.  And, be kind to me as I walk sidewalks and drive roads.   I appreciate your momentary presence and look forward to your return long, long, long after Fall has ended".