Winter reflections
Published on February 27, 2023 at 1:09pm CST
From Where I Sit
By Pat Spilseth, Columnist
22 inches! Holy Moley! That’s too much snow on top of what we already have! Our house’s flat roof will be overloaded and probably collapse. Icicles, ice dams and slippery walkways and roads follow all the falling snow. There’s bound to be accidents, falls and broken hips and wrists…but kids will have a ball sledding, making snow angels and snowmen.
Winter in Minnesota is a conundrum of different attitudes from folks dealing with the deluge of whiteness. Some escape to warmer climates; others grumble and some even enjoy winter’s silence. What’s your attitude about winter in Minnesota?
Bears do it. So can human beings. It’s winter…what are we supposed to do with long, dark nights and short cold days? It’s called hibernation.
When winter rolls in, temperatures drop. Food becomes scarce for animals. Many birds, migrate to warmer climates. Thank goodness, my favorites, those brilliant red cardinals, stay in my yard to feed at our bird feeder off the kitchen window. They bring lively color to a colorless winter day. Other animals survive by hibernating. They find a place to spend the winter that is warm and safe from predators. Chipmunks, woodchucks and bats sleep so deeply that they appear to be dead. Their body temperature drops as low as 32 degrees Fahrenheit (0 degrees Celsius).
Some animals who hibernate, such as bears and raccoons, go into a shorter, lighter period of slumber called torpor. All hibernators need to eat extra food to store up fat for energy during the long winter. Even cold-blooded animals, such as frogs and snakes, hibernate during the winter in mud or under rocks.
On this cold, windy, winter day, I feel so lethargic. If I didn’t have Manic Monday to get me going with my habit of cleaning the house, doing laundry and even baking on Monday, I’d sit and read the entire day. Thank goodness for Monday’s dictates I’ve adopted as my weekly habit; otherwise, the gently falling snow outside the windows won’t prompt me to do anything. Currently, most of my winter days are languorous with later awakenings, cups and cups of coffee and more than one sweet roll. I bake pastries and soups and serve hot suppers filled with carbs. Winter is NOT lettuce weather; I need substantial sustenance.
Books are piled high on end tables and on my nightstand. As I slurp soup at noon, a book is propped against two others, just in case I get bored with the one I’m reading. So many books; lots of time to read. Though it’s too early to go to bed at eight, I find myself retiring to my bed, piled high with a down comforter, pillows and wool blankets. I can lie back and read until ten, later if I have a riveting thriller. Thank goodness, I’m married to a man who feels the same about winter in Minnesota: he loves to sleep!
We often complain that winter is cold, windy, bleak and awful. We speak of winter’s stillness, its sense of silence and darkness, a season of hibernation, a season where everything dies a little. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote that snow is a “poem of the air, where the troubled sky reveals the grief it feels.”
In his poem “January” John Updike noted winter’s lack of sunlight: “The days are short/ The sun a spark/ Hung thin between/ The dark and dark.”
Don’t despair! A faint hope of spring arrives with February. Hyacinth bulbs are sprouting; their heady fragrance at the grocery store tempts me to purchase not only one but several bulbs. These happy plants are a perfect solution for me to pretend it’s springtime in my home.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote that we should delight in “everyday’s most quiet need.”
It’s February; spring is only a few months away. Days are longer; nights shorter. Sleep and dream so when spring does arrive, you’ll awaken from your winter hibernation and have the energy to create those beautiful gardens you dreamed of all winter long.
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To contact Pat, email: pat.spilseth@gmail.com.