View From a Prairie Home

by Hege Hernfindahl, Columnist

The snow lies in white drifts across the landscape. It clings, despite the many winds, to parts of tree branches and bends the small lilac bushes the rabbits keep eaten down by the deck on the west side of our house. Even the branches of the huge evergreens next to our porch are bent by the weight of the many snows of this winter. And this morning is foggy, caused, I am sure, by all this moisture, so each tiny branch is decorated with a frosty white coat. Because of the fog, the horizon is not visible. The end of the earth, it seems, is where our little grove meets the prairie. Beautiful beyond description, but also confining.

Living with a long driveway and at least three miles of gravel roads away from a highway, going anywhere during a snowy winter like this one is challenging at best and even dangerous at worst. I have found myself asking my dear husband to drive me places. This has honestly never happened before. I have always regarded myself as young, brave and independent, but I am well into my seventh decade of life, so in reality, I am an old woman. And I get scared. When the wind blows snow and ice and the branches of our trees crack and fall. When I look on MN. DOT’s 511 and see all the roads are pink or purple or even red, which means driving even on highways is dangerous. Because, as I have told my kids and now my grandkids, even if we know how to drive on slippery roads, others might not. My dear daughter-in-law was rear-ended the other day by an inexperienced driver. Her jeep undrivable.  Luckily, my daughter Ingvild, came to the rescue with an extra car for her to use until her car is fixed.

Snow. Winter. A very good friend has told me many times how she hates winter. How she breathes a sigh of relief when January is history. How she decorates her house with cute snowmen but it doesn’t seem to matter. She feels a heavy burden on her chest. She is lethargic and has a hard time getting going in the morning. A doctor recommended a sun lamp and using this makes her feel better. SAD (seasonal affective disorder) is a common cause of winter depression and is caused by lack of sunlight.

Using a sun lamp reminds me of the bootstrap theory of overcoming things. Which leads me to the fact that snow and winter can be used as a metaphor for life in general. Embrace it or despair.

I grew up in a family that embraced winter. As did most of our neighbors and friends. Our main leisure activity during the snowy and often harsh winter months was to go skiing. There were groomed trails everywhere. Since Norway is so far north the days are very short. So some of the trails had lights. Like the lights we see on city streets.

We even wanted to leave our comfortable city houses with indoor plumbing, central heat and electricity behind and take off to our cabins in the mountains. Small, heated by wood burning stoves. With outhouses and outdoor pumps for getting water and with kerosene lamps. But with views so beautiful it made your soul sing. And the skiing! Gentle hills or steep hills. All groomed. Tiny mountain birch and spruce looking like little trolls with their pure white snowy caps and coats. And we would come home feeling invigorated and full of life. We would sit by the fire and drink hot cocoa and just be while outside even more snow fell. Soft and calm and beautiful.

Life. What is it? A collection of moments to be savored. If these horrible couple of years have taught me anything, it is to savor each moment. Even the moments filled with sadness.

As Robert Frost would say it: “to watch the woods fill up with snow.”