And then, it hits me.

Even with my seven days of manifesto-ing, I thought I was very, very done with winter. Especially when I woke up to double digit negative numbers twice this week.

And then, I stepped out on my front porch yesterday morning and I saw this:

oh. oh. oh.

It happens every year about this time, between thaws and deep freezes. The trees turn to sculptures of ice. Muted morning light pouring across my yard, everything seemed so still, fragile. I thought for a moment the branches could actually shatter, like glass, if a bird landed or the wind began to stir.

And then, as I was letting our dogs out the back door, I noticed this:

Yes, that is a freshly groomed cross country trail, looping through the middle of my backyard (just ignore the well worn paths of pups and kids). The trail is part of a 5k system that runs behind our house, on the property of good friends who take very good care of us. I sipped tea and smiled, already feeling the rhythm and silence of a good ski.

I fell in love with winter all over again, because after all, I live in northern Michigan. It’s what we do.

Today, the thermometer pushed into the mid-40s on my back deck. My fresh ski track now droops with the weight of melting snow. I wore a vest instead of a down jacket to run errands. I pushed slush piles in my driveway.

And then, tonight, it hits me: spring is coming. The thought carries me outside, for a deep inhalation of still-crisp March air. This too happens every year, this little reminder to celebrate each season,
each day, for what it is…because as much as I look forward to this:

and this,

I will soon be sighing and wondering where winter went. And why it had to go so quickly.

Article Comments

4 thoughts on “And then, it hits me.”

  1. Love following this blog. I always smile and say “oh yeah that’s why I live here”. Thanks for continuing to keep all of us who love northern Michigan on track. The photos by the way are amazing!

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