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The amount of joy a first winter's snow brings to a person seems directly proportional to their age. There was a time when snow angels, snowmen, forts, and snowball fights were top notch entertainment. I fondly recall one particular winter when I was probably ten or eleven years old. We received about eight inches of snow which, at the time I was growing up, was fairly common. Not so any longer - lingering effects of El Nino or perhaps global warming I guess. My entire family decided we would build a snowman. One thing led to another and before we knew it we could hardly roll the snowball we were going to use as the base. My uncle, who was a farmer, decided to join in and eventually realized the use of heavy equipment was called for. By the time we were finished, he used the front end loader on his small tractor to maneuver the head in place. For the stovetop hat we used a burn barrel lid and a five gallon bucket which we packed snow around. (Burn barrels were how folks in the country used to get rid of burnable waste in the those days). I remember my grandmother snapping pictures of all of us gathered around old Frosty, who dwarfed everyone, even my father who was six feet tall. I really should see if my mother still has any of those old photos tucked away somewhere. Ah-I guess those were the good old days that I heard my parents so often refer to. Some thirty years later, snow no longer holds such a fascination for me. Scraping windows, shoveling driveways, and attempting to avoid sorely less skillful drivers than I, at least in my opinion, doesn't make me a jolly fellow. In fact this year our first couple of inches of snow was followed up with about a ¼" of ice, and our friendly weather man predicts a possibility of another ¼" the next three days in a row. Good news all around, I'd say. I just returned to the computer after investigating a substantial crash, which turned out to be a large limb in my backyard, but I'm back with a twinkle in my eye and a smile smothered in Christmas cheer. (Yeah, right!!) Truthfully, I was already a little irritated, more at myself than anything. I decided that burning a fire in my fireplace last evening for heat, while our power was out was a little more than I bargained for. I thought it best to purchase a kerosene heater this afternoon, just in case. Well, so did at least five different store's worth of folks. I began to loath the phrase, "Sorry sir, we sold our last one this morning, but we should have some in the first of next week." I'm certain they will - and they'll set on the shelf until another perceived crisis comes up. Anyhow, enough of my woes; certainly we will survive and if I'm lucky I've made someone out there feel a little better about their crappy day. Even though I don't enjoy winter as much I used to I have to admit there is still a certain magic in that first snow. I'm still mesmerized by the beauty of each unique flake floating towards earth and the blanket of purity on the ground and surrounding tree limbs, covered in sparkling grandeur. Certainly Christmas in Illinois wouldn't be the same without the 'white stuff'; hold the ice please!
Winter rehearses her delicate show I draw up a chair right near to the fire
I expectantly peer into the eyes of dark
night I jerk with a twitch and blink rested eye
Dan Beams is a 40-year-old self-described simple man. He lives in a small town in central Illinois, with his wife, Beth, and two children, Allie 15, and Jacob 12. By a strange twist of fate, the loss of his job last year, led to his love of writing. Although this new passion is less than a year old Dan has established a great connection to the intrinsic power of the written word. Writing has again impressed upon him the fact that the key to a successful life is to possess, in great abundance, those things not easily measured. You can read more of Dan's poetry at http://poeticjustice-dan.blogspot.com/ |
Cheshire Cat
Nothin' Better
Songs
of
I'm certain some of you are offended that I would
have the audacity to mention joy and snow in the same breath.
Yet others are wondering aloud, where does this guy live that
he is just now receiving the first snow of the year? Those lucky
few in Florida or California are scratching their heads trying
to remember what it looks like.
