Wintermezzo

January 28, 2025

I received an unintended compliment at the gas station a few weeks ago when a friend told me, “I didn’t know you had a car!”. It’s true that I try to make most trips on foot in this town where most of the amenities are on the same few blocks. It was refreshing to know that my efforts have been noticed, to the point of my car going unnoticed.

I felt called to go on a genuine walk during the day-long preview of spring we had that same week. My heart was glad for the combination of sunshine, a warm southerly breeze, exercise, and a new vantage onto my town after days spent inside. For one magical hour, I felt that winter was just a temporary state: a disguise hiding the warm weather that is the true condition of this place.

There’s some ecological basis to this idea. Just ask the plants that throw all of their energy into growing and reproducing in summer and then shrink back when it turns cold. The economic engine of our town, for better or worse, runs in a similar way. Both are driven by the sunlight.

We devote money, time, and space to maintaining and enjoying our natural surroundings during the months when we can most easily enjoy them. Our extensive patios and lawns are reminders that no matter how long and dark the winter gets, summer is always on the way.

I realized on my walk that the hardest part of winter, or at least the hardest for me, is over. Those weeks in late November and early December of hunkering down, of stocking up on food for the first snowstorms and worrying about the icy windshields, dangerous roads, and high heating bills that lie ahead – managing all of this anxiety every year is difficult. Waiting it out tends to be easier now that I’ve developed ways to cope with being stuck inside.

Pending the groundhog’s verdict, I still may not be able to walk without a winter coat for six more weeks. But I can be warmed by another compliment I received recently: that it seems like I’ve lived here in Spring Green much longer than I have. All those walks back and forth have ingrained me into this community, weaving the seasons together and reminding me that warmer days are always ahead.

P.S. Thanks to Dad for the term “wintermezzo.”