a taste of winter

My stranger on the bus was right; we had perhaps 10 days of true winter here, no snow on the hills that I saw (too dry, we are in the drought again, one good rain since autumn began and no more), but freezing temperatures night after night, and in the morning my breath hung in the air, and the water left outside froze as it was meant to, cracking into patterns when touched. Opening the door to my bedroom in the early morning I look across the small space of hall and stairwell to the window, out across the neighbour’s roofs; during those two weeks they were covered in frost, just a thin sheet but so beautiful. Of course to be too cold in the body is unpleasant, and this house is not made for it, it happens so rarely, but I did not mind just for the ten days, with my hot tea or hotter coffee to comfort me, and long fleece pants and warm sweaters and a blanket over my lap in the meanwhile. And as this is where it is, by afternoon the sun made it warm again; the frost could not last an hour after dawn. But still, a touch of winter, and I delighted in it.

My dear friend lives where the winter comes hard and stays long, ice to make the streets glass and tree branches collapse, snow for days or weeks on end. I do not envy him the inconvenience of it, or the real danger there is some times, power going out, the need to know where the food and fresh water are, to have the plan in case one has no heat for a long while. But I hear his stories, look at the pictures, and think for myself — someday, I will be somewhere else, a place in which water does not vanish three years of every four, a place with the seasons that are still in my bones despite my nearly two decades of absence from them. Another city, another country, perhaps somewhere I must struggle with the language. In one of my favourite books (one I dare not reread; it may not be palatable now and the loss of it would be a tragedy) the man says, “I want to see a different light,” and chooses a year of travel and death from illness at the end rather than to stay in his home forever safe and secure and long-lived. A young person’s story, you might say, but when I was young I thought him foolish not to remain with the sure thing, and now, now I am waiting my own time to go. Once again, glory over length of days, but this time not my own — and who knows? There is no reason I might not have both.

Advertisements

One thought on “a taste of winter

  1. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

    Hope everything is well with you.

    The man on the bus sure was right – winter came early and we are trying to survive up here. So far so good for me, though few thousands didn’t have electricity on the Christmas day ( and Eve) after the freezing rain two days earlier. Right after rain was over I visited my favorite park and was saddened by amount of destruction it caused. Not just broken branches and bent to the ground trees, but completely split in half and lots of fallen ones.

    I am glad we past the solstice and days are slowly growing in length. Need to get over the gloomy season that will last till May. Every year I want to spend this time for studying something new and every year it looks like I’ve wasted 4 months for nothing. Hope I won’t loose time this year.

    Any particular plans you made for this year?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s