Trudging to work this morning, I was starkly reminded why this time of the year is when I question why we left Southern California: I came across the foot tracks I’d left on the road last year (two days ago). There they were—laid out on the asphalt perfectly preserved like meat in a freezer—showing even the imprint of my Yaktrax ice gripers.
Did we really come back “home” to Michigan in part to experience the seasons in their full-blown glory? Did we forget that the seasons include winter! Actually we didn’t. We did want to experience winter again, but I do have to confess that when some of our friends and family turn into “snowbirds” and head to warmer climes, I do experience a bit of envy.
It’s not merely because of the coldness that I long for warmer places; it’s the lack of outdoor life and the lack of sunshine. Our first year back from California, November set a record: the least amount of sunshine ever recorded for the month. And I actually enjoyed it—because I had become jaded with the constant sunshine of California that often makes every day the same. Bored with sunshine!
But that was sixteen years ago. Now I hunger for sunshine, even the hazy sunshine we’re getting today. And I do get SAD these winters: Seasonal Affective Disorder. Isn’t it handy that modern medicine has given us so many official syndromes and disorders? Now I’m not blue or melancholy or depressed. I have a medical condition! But lo, the cure for the disorder that used to be a mood is still the same: Sunshine, gift of the blessed nearby star that winter in Michigan tries to keep under wraps.
So I do thank God for those brave bundles of being that remind us that there is still life outdoors: cheerful chickadees, fiery cardinals, raucous blue jays, and the little bullets—the nuthatches that zip in and zip out of our birdfeeders.
And I did have a chance to create memories for granddaughters Elle and Danika: absolutely perfect sledding right outside our back door—a ride almost a hundred yards long. That created memories fo
r me too, memories that come to mind every time I move today: It’s been a long time since this big bag of bones, muscles, and tendons has been hurtled down slick slopes and bounced across hitherto unknown un-level surfaces of a frozen golf green that in summer looks perfectly smooth!
See you outdoors!
Dean
January 3rd, 2009 at 12:33 pm
I guess you are practicing what you’re preaching to us on every post, Dean.
Very nice post, and yes, I think SAD might affect me some, as well. I certainly do look forward to Spring!
January 3rd, 2009 at 1:32 pm
Dean,
I also live in a snow-prone area of the northwest, an hour or so from Canada on the border between Washington and Idaho. While I love the four seasons, and look forward to each segment, the excitement of fresh powder decays quite rapidly when snowplows leave a 4 foot berm at my ‘newly plowed’ driveway entrance.
Currently, I am visiting my son and his family near Boise,Idaho and dredding the return home. We have had 3 feet of fresh snow fall since leaving our home and I expect a mountain of snow at my driveway entrance.
After 8 hours of driving, it is a daunting task to remove that obstacle just to gain access to the driveway to the house… a very large half circle driveway that looks sooo nice when well groomed but, a nightmare to tackle when left unattended for nearly three weeks.
I can relate to your aches and pains from sledding… only in my case its the 4-6 hours of snow removal.
Still, I love the beauty of fresh powder and the ‘quiet’ of a pristine paradise of pines ‘flocked by the Master’.
Only one thing better than being outdoors in winter…
Being indoors afterwards with a mug of ‘Joe’ and a cracklin’ fire.
January 3rd, 2009 at 10:03 pm
I also live in Washington State, but in the Puget Sound area. We’ve had six inches of snow, but that’s unusual around here. It’s been very exciting for us. The Cascade Range usually keeps it mild and wet on the west side of the state, and cold and dry on the east. SAD is a problem here too.
Dean, I’ve enjoyed your posts. I grew up backpacking and skiing in the Cascades, and have had the opportunity to climb the major peaks here. I appreciate hearing about the terrain and weather in the Midwest, it’s so different from our mountains with Douglas fir, cedar and hemlock.
The picture of your favorite reading chair was delightful. Looked like it had a blowout on one side. I look forward to enjoying your posts in the future. Best wishes for 2009.
January 4th, 2009 at 10:12 am
mjday:
My brother and sister-in-law live on Orcas Island, and we have been blessed to visit a few times. I could use that vista right now–looking out toward Mt. Baker! (They avoid SAD by spending winters in Palm Desert, CA. That vista isn’t too bad either!)
My poor maligned reading chair: first it is seen to have a pitch and yaw; now a blowout. I think it’s been conformed to my image!
January 5th, 2009 at 11:06 am
Dean, I hate to rub it in, but I just spent a wonderful crisp morning exploring some of the property that the Lord allowed our church to have which we purchased a number of years ago. I’m trying to find an ideal spot where our younger scouts can camp without being too far out in a wilderness setting similaer to where the older boys can go.
What a morning! Spooked two does and was serenaded by a choir made up of several species of our feathered friends.
If you ever do sprout some snow-bird wings, you might want to visit us down here in “the old north state” We can give you a winter inoculation to carry you through to the spring thaw.