Brief Thoughts on Winter

 It's January 24th, 2021. We are in Portland, Maine. There is no snow on the ground.* 

I am a lover of winter, a "winter person". I love bitterly cold mornings, looking out a window at a frozen landscape. I love going outside in the cold, bundled up, experiencing the crunch of snow underfoot. I love to ski, cross-country, where the whoosh of the ski sliding over the snow is an undertone for rhythmic pinch of the poles biting the surface. 

There is quite like going out the day after a snow storm. The world has changed into something alien. Somehow, it's comforting, like being under a blanket. The trees and mountains are transformed. 

The Mother changes. From green to white. Then to brown, and green again. 

Picture this: It's 7:30 in the morning. You're sipping steaming coffee looking at the gold-kissed snow covered trees glistening in the morning sun. This takes 15 minutes. You pour yourself another cup of coffee and then lose track of it seven times while rummaging through the drawers for all the clothing you'll need, then, layer by layer, putting it on your body. 

You're fortunate enough to live close to an area where you can play in the snow. You step outside, and breath in the cold morning air. There's a momentary thought of, "Why? This seems nuts. My lungs hurt." It will pass. It is worth it. 

The key to your excursion is to remain calm. The fresh corduroy the groomers have laid down in the early morning hours is beckoning, calling, begging you to just rip right out of the parking lot and go crazy. Don't. Ease into the day. Cold things don't force easy; your body is no exception. 

You stop a few times in the first couple kilometers to make adjustments, take of a layer, let your body remember the motions. Then, you start to feel the groove. The muscles and sinews working together to fly over the frozen water; your body begins to sing. 

This is nirvana, Valhalla, the place you dream of when you can't fall asleep. Those dreams don't do a thing for your insomnia, because your legs become restless with a yearning for snow, but you dream anyway, because you're hopelessly, completely, hooked. 

There are phases to this madness. The next phase is Obsessive Weather Website Refresher. You'll drive yourself, and all of your loved ones, mad. Constantly refreshing your web browser to see the latest forecasts. Your browser history will be filled with more weather related URLs than you knew existed before you fell in love. There will be lists. Best looking websites, most reliable websites, best weather radar, etc. 

Shortly after this phase is the Mood Swings Depending On Outside Air Temperature phase. This one is brutal. You live and die by the weather. If it's 40 degrees in February, your family members will know to steer clear of you by a good half-mile. If the r-word-that-shall-not-be-spoken happens, you'll need to be placed in solitary confinement. 

Pendulums always swing, though. You're loved ones don't have to panic, or spend lots of money on a psychiatrist. Eventually, you'll come back towards the middle. These are my favorite times. The ones when you just simply enjoy what's right in front of you. Sometimes, the snow is great. Sometimes, the snow is crap. Sometimes, there is no snow. All of this is, of course, fine. It has to be. You can't control the weather, not really. (You can, and must, control the climate, but climate is different than weather.) 

The next phase is Stay Up All Night Watching Skiers On Youtube. This phase is both exciting and toxic. You'll never be those people on your laptop shredding epic lines or winning world cup races. This isn't to say you won't achieve great things; it's literal. You're you, they're them, that can never be changed. It's probably a good idea at this point to delete all the social media apps on your phone. Stick to books. You can get all the great ideas of things to do without any of the self-loathing. 

We have a sign posted on the wall of the wax hut that reads: Any day you don't train is a day someone else does. This is meant to motivate high school skiers, and I think it does an alright job. There is a slight modification I'd like to make on this idea here. Any day you get outside in the winter, regardless of the snow, or the wax, or for how long, or how epic, is a good day. You don't need to win the Tour de Ski like Jessie Diggins just did (holla!) to be a "skier". You don't need to ski the most remote peak in Lyngen, Norway to be a "skier". Quite literally, you just need to step out onto some snow, and put some skis on your feet. Done. 

The part where you fall head over heals in love (or just head over heals, period), that will come. The overwhelming appreciation for the beauty of snow, and the serenity of winter, all of that will come next. All you need to do is put the skis on your feet, and take a step. 

*Note: It's since snowed a bit, and I can now walk out my door and enjoy winter. This, however, does not dull the point of some of the more climate-oriented comments in this post. Weather does not equal climate. 

Most of the "phases" that I have described here, are a direct result of the warming planet causing shorter and less stable winter seasons in the northeast United States, where I currently live. Part of my response, is simply to write about what I am experiencing. 

The reality is, if you are not freaking out because of our climate situation on this planet, you might want to start. The next ten years will likely be quite unlike any 10 year period humans have ever lived through. You, and I, are not prepared for what will happen if we do not directly confront the treachery by our species of the only place we've ever lived. 

If you want to do something, click this link. If you're a winter person like me, click here to protect our winters.