Hello and welcome back to another week of still technically “exam” week but that’s basically become a joke to me now but what’s not a joke is…The goddamn snow that’s dropped here in Canada recently. I mean seriously, last year we basically had no snow until like… March? Okay that’s hyperbole, maybe not until February. Either way, we had no snow for the longest time and we had a pretty sad Christmas with grey roads and dark skies. I’ll tell ya, winter last year was one hell of a dreary time. And that sucks, I love winter. Out of the four cardinal seasons of this planet, winter hands down is my favorite, and hell Winter is also a very pretty name. But again, the snow hit this year like march coming in like a lion. It’s a damn good time to be a fan of winter in Canada this year. But am I a fan of winter just because of snow? Let’s talk about winter.
Snow is one portion of my love for this season. Snow not only colors the grey boring ground white, but it also causes iridescent snow blindness. Well, I’m only half kidding with that statement. Seeing the sun reflect off of the sun’s surface is amazing. It’s just simply beautiful to be able to look out of my window and see this white blanket face me like a raging waterfall. There’s no feeling as ebullient as being able to walk out to the ground and lay down knowing a bed of snow will catch me like a pillow. Snow is the world’s putty, it’s the clay that keeps on giving. But there’s also a more holistically literary meaning to snow that I love. Yes, I am going to harp on about this because hey, one of my favorite motifs to use in writing is winter. And hell if I’m not going to defend that point now. The white snow that falls on the ground does so at the thick of night. It covers the world, or at least the greater world with this blanket of immeasurable joy. You can hate snow all you want, shoveling snow, or having snow block the roads, but snow does not hate. Everyone has experienced snow in their childhoods, everyone at least has heard about this substance and I will argue that everyone is at least a bit interested in seeing snow once in their life. It’s kind of this enigmatic phenomena that you can’t just not know about. But again, snow doesn’t hate. Snow doesn’t do anything bad it just sits there and it sits there as something that universally we all come to love or hate. We all work together in times of snow storm, and we all work together to play with snow. It’s not the snow that we hate, it’s the distance, it’s the snow’s ability to force us out of our shells to do these things and to care about the well-being of our communities stuck in snow. The snow to me serves as a blanket to all the malice, to all the anathema, and to all the misanthropy in the world. At this time of year, it covers all of that which makes this world dark and brightens it by being. It brings the worst and best out of us, and even though it doesn’t expel that darkness, it’ll at least be there long enough for us to think about it.
But it’s not just this snow, not just this meaning of snow that I’ve given it. Winter is a time of coldness. It’s a time to freeze, and it’s a time to thaw out those winter jackets because hell if you ain’t freezing then you’re something else. But I don’t associate winter with cold. Well, I feel cold, but when I think of winter my first reaction isn’t to shiver in nostalgia. Not in the same way that my first reaction to summer is to burn in sweat. When I think of winter I think of warmth. There’s a strange warmth to winter. It’s not a physical warmth per se, and it may never have to be a physical warmth. Its not the warmth in your jacket, not the warmth in your heaters. But its the warmth of family, the warmth of love, the warmth of just being there around people. Winter brings people together in ways that no other season can. See my rant on snow above. But its not just snow. It has something to do with Christmas, but its not just Christmas. Winter thematically is the end of days. Trees die, animals hibernate, and things go to sleep. The world is put at rest. It’s the season between seasons. The season of rest. It’s through winter that we spring up into the world, in the season of spring. Winter is not something that makes life. It’s something that takes away life, but it takes away that life momentarily. It takes away life such that life can be given respite. It’s the slowing of life. Our days are shortened by winter, but our nights are longer. We can sleep longer, and we can relax in the day knowing that even if our days are shorter, we have so much more to look forward to in the future. Winter isn’t just a season to me. It’s a moment. It’s a story. And hell, it’s snowing here in Canada, but it’s been winter since the winds turned.