Saturday, February 25, 2012

Winter's Wrath

The Snow Queen has returned to the Western Mountains with a vengeance. With a heavy, wet blanket over a foot thick she descended to smother all of those who had become complacent with a mild winter. In the guise of an icy Amazon, Mother Nature has reasserted the natural order of things: this IS Maine and it IS February. She wails through the trees at 30 miles an hour; toppling some of them and maiming others. The suddeness of her return and the terror of her beauty are awesome in the truest meaning of the word. She is magnificent. The streams freeze in dread at her touch. The Earth shivers into submission and yields to her will. We humans and the birds have had a rude awakening. We've taken too much for granted and now we are being bent to the will of She Who Must Be Obeyed. We were anticipating the early return of Persephone. But she has been consigned once more to the nether regions while the hope for Spring withers on the vine of memory. The Arctic Empress holds sway here and we must bow in obeisance or else be stifled within the frigid folds of her cloak.

I am perhaps one of the few who are glad of her return to the stage although I would have preferred a far less dramatic entrance. I was missing the warmth and crackling of the hearth, sun-dazzled ice crystals across the lawn, and the sound of frozen snow under foot. Soups and stews had lost much of their charm in the balmy temperatures. Many will gleefully take advantage and strap boards to their feet while others drool over the chance to ride those infernal machines across the fields at all hours. I will use this time to replan my flower beds and replot my intended vegetable garden. I am glad that mowing is farther off now than the previous conditions hinted at. Her return allows me to enjoy wearing my winter woolies out of doors and enjoying my peacock's cloak of daydreams indoors a while longer.

It is Maine. It is February. It is as it should be. It is good.

9 comments:

  1. oh I do like a man who mixes his metaphors!
    and one who is appreciative of snow too!

    winter woolies, log fires, icicles, a million diamonds glinting in the snow, alas, we appear to be seeing an early spring here in Oxfordshire and I so wanted snow.

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  2. ..If the wind would just let up a bit.. It blew so horrendously and the rain came down so, that we don't have much snow left at all...

    ...so now that the snow has all blown away, I really don't see why the wind must continue to blow so darn hard... see how Mother Nature has left me questioning again.... sometimes she is a spoiled ol' girl and does exactly what she wants!!!... maybe 'cause she has to put up with so much torment from us earthly inhabitants..

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  3. ...enjoy wearing my winter woolies out of doors...Can't say I recall ever enjoying wearing winter woolies.
    An author I use to enjoy and I'm on a quest to discover who it was, bought a boat to live on because he said "a man ought to be as smart as a duck and go south in the winter". When winter came on that year he loaded the boat with cosmetics made for brown people and headed for the Bahamas. He is my hero. Now if I could just remember who he is.

    I'm happy to say that Mother nature does not care one bit what man thinks. Stay warm.

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  4. Yes indeed, stay warm and well fed and enjoy the opportunity to dream and plan.

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  5. Good to hear from you, and may you enjoy the seasonal limitations, dare I say, idleness? I try hard not to rush the seasons and as the bard voiced in "Love's Labor's Lost"

    At Christmas I no more desire a rose

    Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth;

    But like of each thing that in season grows.

    And remember, May is just around the corner.

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  6. Mouse:---Mixed, tossed, sliced, diced, and julienned....I love having my way with metaphors. Apparently your winter was diverted to Russia. No use complaining to them, they'd only try to sell it back to you.

    Gwen:--The wind here was quite a fright as well. It was coming from the North West...I'm kinda wondering if it had anything to do with the Republican hopefuls' sparring in Michigan...

    Oldfool:--I love my flannels and winter woolies. A lot of what I wear during the 6 month stretch of late autumn, winter, and early spring is a by-product of sheep, goat, or alpaca. The only thing I hate wearing are the boots--I feel like Herman Munster whenever I have to put them on. Except for the cosmetics part, the quote sounds so much like something Mark Twain or Will Rogers would say.

    Von:--Staying warm burning the wood I had gathered throughout last year (and thought for nothing until Friday night), some good hearty stew, and four cats who can't seem to get close enough

    L.F. Hawkins:--Absolutely. Each season has its' treasures and to have them out of season diminishes their magic and allure. I love getting spring flowers in December just to remind me that this isn't permanent. I have to admit though, that during some of those sweltering triple digit days in Houston I would have loved to experience a blue norther.

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  7. The absence of a proper winter, makes me less excited about spring.
    Enjoyed your ode to winter.

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  8. Antares:--Up until two weeks ago it looked and felt like spring. Now, with more than three feet of new snow, it definitely feels like winter. In Siberia.

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  9. Yes, seems Mother Nature took an extended winter vacation, but, as you know, I felt much like you when she decided to return. Welcoming her with open arms--Where have you been, Mother?!

    It's warming here in Cucumberland, now. I'm afraid Mother Nature may be deciding to retire. Let's hope not. I'll forgive her if she doesn't return this March, but come winter next year she'd better be around a whole lot more. No excuses--I've already told her that there's plenty of room here at the Inn. ;)

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