Minnewaska Musings

By Paul Gremmels

I heard a play on the old “days of the month rhyme” last week. It went something like this; “Thirty days has September, April, June and November. All the rest have thirty-one . . .  Except January. January has a hundred and five.”

Indeed, January is a long month. At least here in the north country. We had a very mild fall and the first part of the winter this year. But then, the severe cold set in. Sub-zero stuff for weeks. Temperatures that cause you to worry about your waterline, frozen pipes and your septic system. Now we’re on the upswing with temperatures jumping into the thirties and forties. But if we hadn’t suffered through the really cold stuff, would the mild temperatures be as appreciated?

There have been reams upon reams of studies, surveys and writings about the negative effects of winter’s cold and lack of sunshine upon our bodies and our minds. There are also many suggestions of how to counteract these issues. Simply, there is help out there if you think you need it.

Obviously, if it was thirty degrees in July, we would be absolutely miserable. But, if we get into the thirties in January, we are delighted. I guess we are a people of comparisons, and just maybe these comparisons make our suffering or joy all relative. I try to think of it that way. When struggling through sub-zero winter temperatures I tend to “bank” those memories for when I am planting my garden in the spring or sweating during a summer bike ride. It seems the harsher the winter the better I am able to cope with a sweltering summer day.

Herman Melville once wrote about a young sailor who was amazed by the bravery of an older shipmate during a nighttime storm at sea. How the older sailor climbed the swaying masts, in the lashing rain, trimming the sails as the storm raged about him. The young sailor clung to the gunnels on the pitching deck below, frozen in fear as he watched the old sailor, high above him, leaping between the riggings, occasionally illuminated by lightening. After the storm, the young sailor, embarrassed by his lack of action, asked the old sailor how he managed to do what he did in such a frightening storm. The old sailor said, simply, “If you’ve ever been trapped in the doldrums, you’ll never fear a little wind.”

    Sage advice. Especially coming from an early nineteenth century sailor who had once been trapped in the literal doldrums of what is now known as the Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone. A swath of the equatorial Atlantic ocean, as a result of various climatic factors, which is notorious for dead calm seas. For early sailing ships, being trapped in these doldrums could easily become life threatening. As days and weeks of no wind caused them to cease making headway while supplies, especially water, began to run low.

    So, this summer, when the temperatures are in the nineties or hundreds and the sun is relentlessly beating down upon us, let’s try and remember these winter doldrums. Let us bank these dreary, cold winter days in an account of sorts, that we may draw from in the times ahead.