Going Inkless

     A long, bitter winter has a way of pushing things to their breaking point.  This winter has been one of the harshest on record in the United States, sending snow and ice storms into even the normally balmy southern states.  Where we live, there has been a pattern cycling between arctic temperatures and heavy snowfall and back again throughout the past three months.  Every time it warms to 20 degrees or so (-7C), we get another blanket of snow before diving back toward zero (-18C) again.  We have had our occasional, isolated above-freezing days when icicles grow and meltwater collects on sidewalks only to become a dangerous sheet of ice with the following cold snap.  The sun beats on snowbanks by day, pushing fingers into the less hard-packed edges.  Then, cold winds turn the work into a natural masterpiece like frozen surf- beautiful, but sharp and unforgiving if you fall.  Water will seep into cracks and pores when it warms, strain...

The view this morning was sharp and bright where you could see it.  This is usually the case on the coldest of mornings.  I had meant to capture the winter majesty from an attic window but caught a different kind of winter majesty instead.  Today started out at 16 degrees below zero, Fahrenheit.  (That's -26.6 C if you're reading this from outside the USA)  Most of the world in my immediate vicinity was holed up in their houses, taking an extra long weekend. Monday's forecast was all that people were talking about this weekend.  With wind chill predicted to be 50 degrees below zero (-45.5 C) there were dire warnings of the impending danger and sage advice for coping.  Children and pets should be kept indoors at all costs.  Don't travel unless you have to, and don't even think about doing so without food and water and extra blankets in the car.  Keep your ears, nose, and fingers covered; frostbite only takes minutes to set in.  Sun...

     There are astronomical reasons for the similarities among celebrations this time of year.  Despite differences of culture or religion, there are common elements because we share a world.  Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we are on the verge of winter, with days growing shorter until the solstice turns the tide.  We have a sense that we are going down into darkness, and that has influenced our holidays.  Winter holidays, and those of late autumn, tend to be about light, family and tradition.  Winter holidays are about making it through to the next Spring.      As days grow short, we crave the light.  Twinkling bulbs, flickering candles or roaring fires all remind us of brighter days and make the darkness a little less bleak.  Even the use of gold and silver in holiday decorations may be an unconscious attraction to the glints of light they reflect.      We also recognize that the cold, dark months ah...

The standard answer my Grandma would give whenever one of us kids would complain about the cold was one simple question.  "What are you gonna do when winter comes?"  To this day, it replays in my mind every time I notice a chill or hear someone comment on the frosty weather.  "What are you gonna do when winter comes?" It sounds curt, unsympathetic, or maybe a little cold, but the response was always delivered with kindness.  I assure you, she did care about our comfort.  She was concerned about red cheeks and noses when we came in from hours of snowball wars, from tunneling through drifts or climbing the snow covered wood pile in order to reach the low-hanging icicles.  She fed us hot cocoa and gave us warm socks for Christmas like any other grandmother.  The question was more a matter of philosophy - in far fewer words than I might use, but that was part of her Grandma magic, I guess.  She was succinct, often with a touch of humour, and she let...

It was just about a week ago that I woke to snow falling soft and steady. It wasn't bitter cold, but it was the type of winter day that promised a slow, patient rise in the snowdrifts and the inescapable erasure of footprints and sidewalks. The path my husband had shoveled to free his car that morning was all but invisible by the time I peeked out at the driveway. Somewhere out in the haze of snowflakes, snow day magic whispered. There's beauty and comfort in an unstoppable snowfall when there's nowhere you have to go. As luck would have it, I had scheduled a vacation day, so I was in no rush, but there was a slate of errands I needed to accomplish in the precious free time. After a few chores around the house, I peeked again and noted that the carapace was still thickening on my car with no sign of slowing. Wait too much longer, and I might not be able to escape the driveway. Running those errands certainly wasn't going to get any easier. So I dug out and star...