I relish living with four distinct seasons: the crispness of winter, the hopefulness of spring, the freedom of summer’s warmth, and the brilliance of autumn. I relish each in turn and am often in awe of the beauty of each. This winter, however, is wearing thin, which is odd as it has not been a hard winter, as hard winters go hereabouts.
Our latest snow was but a few inches; not much for the Chicago area, and, as I am told, not particularly hard to shovel as shoveling snow goes. Easy for me to say, of course, as I sat at my desk, all cozy and warm, while the Antler Man was out making a path, a very long path, for me to escape from.
So why, I wonder, has it seemed like such a long winter? Could it be just that feeling come February that those of us in northern climes experience? Cabin fever, no matter how many inches accumulate, how many degrees the mercury dips, or that we’ve even been holed up in our cabins that long? Is it just time to begin feeling restless?
I pondered this cabin fever I have as I looked out at the new fallen snow, with all its beauty clinging to tree limbs and cars, mailboxes and urns, a great expanse of confectioner’s delight on a late winter’s day.
The cardinals and starlings were at the suet feeder and a pair of red-tailed hawks were doing their winged waltz up above.
A neighbor’s dog could be seen, running in frenetic circles, a little black storm cloud amid the white snow.
Two squirrels chatted, up on a limb, their bushy tails curled up in question marks,as they inquired of each other’s day, wondering, perhaps, where the last of the walnuts were buried.
The deer are so much easier to see in the snow. One stood, stock still, just beyond the arbor, watching as I went out to check the mail. I had interrupted her afternoon break, a frozen white smoothie in the birdbath.
As I trudged through the slush and the snow, like Susie in her galoshes along in the slush, I noticed movement beyond. I stopped. When one lives on a road called the Cutoff, one learns to stop often, to listen, to watch. There they were, an outdoor classroom of creatures, recess from a spell of yarding up, all prancing from east to west, leaping over the driveway; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven and eight, together, nine, ten, eleven and twelve. Their graceful movement and precision a sight to behold; Swan Lake in hooves atop the snowy Cutoff stage. I wanted to clap, Bravo, encore, more, but, then they were gone, into the forest. I picked up the mail, trudged back to my cabin, the doe still sipping her tea, and I thought, spring is coming, with all its hopefulness, and maybe, perhaps, I could endure a bit more of winter after all.
.
I spent some time outside today. It is beautiful, sunny, and crisply cold. The snow is the crunchy on top soft underneath kind that is fun for walking. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Spring is just around the corner.
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That crunch snow is the best, isn’t it, Janet? I remember our walks to and from school on that snow, and loving the adventure of it. Now, of course, I like it, but, well, you know my “walking” upright history. ha! Spring IS just around the corner, and will come in due time, I know, but big snowstorm seems to be brewing for later this week.
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A lovely post, Penny, and I could really see those deer in the snow. I know what you mean about cabin fever. No lying snow here, but it’s very cold for the UK at the end of February, with a lot of windchill, and the sky seems to have been grey for so very long. I long for a series of really sunny spring days. 🙂
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That you, Perpetua. I know how those long, grey days can begin to wear on ones’ being and you folks there in the UK have had such a time with weather all year, haven’t you, from all that rain and gloom this summer and now your unusually cold winter. The sun was out yesterday, and it made all the difference in spite of the cold. I hope you have some relief soon – and sunshine soon.
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Dear Penny, there’s really little winter here on the western edge of Missouri, especially for someone who loved winter in Minnesota for thirty-eight years. But this past Thursday we had a real storm and got 12 inches!!!!!! That’s the fifth highest snowfall, Kansas City has ever had since reporting began back in about 1879. And it’s the most since 1993 when the area got 9 inches. So in the past twenty years, the residents here have never seen even 9 inches of snow at one time.
So I weary of the chilly days and the barometer changes that bring Meniere’s problems. But as to snow, we had none until now to weary of. And yet I do know about the February blahs which I experienced every year in Minnesota. I always said to friends that if I could get through February, I could manage to get through almost anything “that life threw at me!” Peace.
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That’s a goodly amount of snow, all at one time, anywhere, Dee, especially your neck of the woods. My goodness. Your beloved Minnesota has had its share of snow this year, much to the delight of our daughter and her family up there, who love the snow. I hope you are not now in the path of the latest snowstorm brewing. Predictions are up to a foot here later this week, which is a lot at one time, even for here.
It is that fluctuation barometer that wreaks havoc, isn’t it? I know my bones have been aching of late, I can only imagine what it does to t hose dealing with Menier’s, Dee. How true about February and her blahs!. Good thing we are more than halfway through it – though March can be quite a ride to!
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You can do it! Spring will be there soon. February was always a hard month for me when we lived in Oregon. Not snow, but just I remember getting very tired of the rain and gray and longing for sun. School spring break was never until toward the end of March and I always thought that was so dumb (I know I know it’s the end of the semester blah blah blah), but by that time, daffodils were blooming. The time when I wanted to get away was in February!
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For such a short month, February can certainly be a bit of bother, can’t it, Sallie? it seems to be the time we are eager to just move on a bit. I know it can seem endless in the northwest. The snow, I suppose, at least provides a change in scenery. Now Florida, dear Sallie, you are in the best place for February, aren’t you?
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“Swan Lake in hooves atop the snowy Cutoff stage…” made me feel the excitement and beauty of those deer. What a joyous description of your trip to the mailbox on a cold day when it seems that winter will never end. Spring arrives in about 25 days so the countdown can begin.
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Oh, thank you, Marilyn. It was a shiny moment of excitement, and a reminder that there is beauty around us if we just look. Ah, yes, the countdown begins and hope is in sight. Yea!
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I think we all are getting tired of winter. Since Dee got a foot of snow in KC we did not have mail delivery yesterday! We, 100 miles south, had sleet, freezing rain, lightning and thunder while it was snowing hard (thundersnow!), more freezing drizzle and then more snow, ending up with about 6″ of whatever. And now we wait for Monday when 5-10 inches is predicted from “Rocky”.
About the only tracks in our snow seem to be from our cats and dog and the little birdies hopping around under the feeder. Maybe deer tracks down by the pond?? Think Spring – the daffodils are.
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Oh, my, Joyce; “6” if whatever” sounds dreadful and no mail delivery always lends itself to some gloom, doesn’t it? I hope you miss that 5-10 inches from “Rocky”. Some ‘white stuff” is headed this way as well, but, we’ve not had the amount you folks have. Aren’t those thundersnows something? We had a major thundersnow storm a few years ago that was surreal. I hadn’t remembered such thunder in snow before, but, once you see it you don’t seem to forget it.
I love the little birdie tracks, like lace on top of the snow. Our deer manage to make quite a mess of the snow with their tracks here as there are too many of them. Now, there I go, being curmudgeonly again. Here’s to the daffodils and promise of Spring. Thanks, Joyce.
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It’s moments like that which keep us going, isn’t it, Penny? I think the landscape becomes colourless, but if wildlife is there to encourage use, we can get through somehow. I have just refilled the peanut feeder and the seed feeder, and popped fat balls in their tube: hoping our visitors continue to entertain us.
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Indeed, they are Kate. The wildlife bring us some excitement here and activity that are encouraging. I’ve seen deer leap over, with no effort, mountains of snow piled six feet high and fox zoom past in a red flash and they still catch my breath in wonder. Those popped fat balls sound interesting. Does the tube keep other critters away from them so the birds can get to them. The deer actually got to our suet this year. They are rather resourceful.
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If the winter theatre is as ravishing as described here by you, I should think you could muster just a little more patience to see it out.
A lovely post.
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Right you are, Friko. It is the beauty in our neighborhood beasts that keep us going, mustering on as you say. A storm is brewing, more snow, so, what will be will be. March can be mighty cruel here in the midwest, so, I’ll just carry on and enjoy what I can. You’ve had your share of nasty weather this year, haven’t you?
I thank you.
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The grey is starting to get to me as well, but when I watch Edward bouncing around in the cold weather,… well, it can stay a bit longer!
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Leave it to Edward to carry you through the last of the grey days of winter, Pamela. I know I don’t have to tell you to enjoy him.
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Yes, spring will be here before we know it. Here in Los Angeles, we are starting to get some warm weather. But it is a tease, because I know there will be more rain and cold weather in March. Have a great week!
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March can be full of surprises, can’t it, Sunday? It is not unusual for us to have major snowstorms in March here, and all the rain you can get. Right now, we are waiting to see what havoc Rocky brings to the midwest. Today, however, was a beautiful winter day.
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“Swan Lake in hooves atop the snowy Cutoff stage.” Beautifully written Penny! You live in a magical place. I know what you mean about the winter though because I’ve felt the same way. I think in part it may because we’ve gotten the worst of winter – many very cold, windy, dreary grey days, without much of the best of winter – the excitement of blizzards and the beauty of the day following them, sunny and bright with drifts and blankets of white changing the landscape.
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Aw, thanks, Janet. It does seem magical at times. Well put. That is a good part of it. I think I’m still feeling robbed of a white Christmas, so, am being a curmudgeon. I may be singing a different tune if we get those 6 inches tomorrow.
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I’m hearing the same thing from several northern hemisphere bloggers. Maybe the winter is just too long, and then again, the restlessness may be because spring is closer than you think. I love the way you stop to observe, and had the serendipity of those handsome beasts prancing across your path.
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I think you are right, Juliet; it may be the anticipation. We have a ways to go here in our northern climes until spring and are anticipating a pretty good snowstorm later today. It helps knowing spring is around the corner. I thank you, Juliet; the deer reminded me to enjoy what beauty was right in front of me.
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