The notification popped up on my screen yesterday afternoon: snowfall warning. Again. This morning, when Molly and I got up shortly after 4, the first thing I did was look out the window. Yup. The white stuff had arrived. Gerry, eternally optimistic, said, “it doesn’t look like much” when we were enjoying our morning coffee. But, he donned his winter gear after the first cup and went outside to fire up the snowblower and chat with the neighbour who was also clearing snow.
We’ve just finished lunch, and a couple of chess games, both of which I lost. I’m sure I lose more often than not but it doesn’t bother me. I love the game. I tell myself I’m improving. Gerry’s cracked open a new jigsaw puzzle on the dining table instead of heading to the gym, and I’ll probably make a mug of hot chocolate and pull out my book when I’m finished here. It’s a typical snowy Saskatchewan afternoon. Yes. It’s still snowing.
It feels like we’re in Narnia, cursed by the White Witch and trapped in a never-ending winter. Surely it has been winter for at least half a year. But, no, I did the math. It’s only been 79 days since our first snowfall on November 18. Eleven weeks and two days. Two months and 18 days. And it’s only February 5.
It’s bone-chilling cold. When we walked the half-block or so from church on Sunday to where our car was parked, my face hurt from the cold. My raised-bed gardens in the backyard are buried under snow. I pulled out my knitting basket this morning. I haven’t knitted anything for years, but I’m going to make a mug cozy to help keep my tea warm in the morning. The days are getting ever-so-slightly longer; sunrise is earlier than 9 a.m. now. At least that’s something.
I think it’s the news that’s made this winter even tougher to bear. It’s been one thing after another. I’ve been thinking about the early Saskatchewan settlers and how they coped with a winter the likes they had probably never endured before. They were a hardy folk who had no choice but to be strong if they were to survive a harsh prairie winter. At least they didn’t have the added burden of the 24-hour news cycle we have today.
And so, we hunker down and wait for spring. As I write those words, I see there’s an opportunity to adjust my thinking and habits. Is survival the best I can hope for right now? Can I find ways to embrace and appreciate the gifts this season offers? Once upon a time, I used to list joy-sparkers in this space now and then. I think I’m overdue, so here’s a few recent ones.
- A vase of pink tulips on my kitchen counter.
- Coffee and conversation downtown with a new friend.
- The sparkle of ice crystals in the sunshine.
- Lindor chocolates.
- A freshly baked loaf of bread.
- A text from my granddaughter.
What’s sparking joy in your world right now?
The fact that WInter is only for 12 weeks. (the season). It’s all in perspective. We only have 3 inches of white stuff on the ground but the bitter cold is making me be intentional about finding things that spark joy: hot mugs of coffee; homemade chicken soup; warm cozy sweaters; thick wool socks; a Wed morning class at church with amazing women and leaders; my new small group members who actually are looking forward to our first meeting next week; hugs from my 2 daughters when they pop in after their jobs; curling up with husband to watch a netflix or hulu movie under the fleece blankets; the bright blue sky and sunshine.
Ah, joy sparkers. A morning spent at the brand new Barnes & Noble; a gathering with amazing and wise spiritual companions in my contemplative community; listening to a new orchestra composition my grandson is working on; reading an old favorite from my bookshelf; the fact that I’m not home n Michigan where an ice storm is on the way. Thanks for the opportunity to think about the good things (and there are many in my life!)
Stay warm and cozy.
What a sweet list, Becca. We find so many good things when we pause to pay attention, don’t we?