The Dead of Winter

There is an expression when the calendar reaches near the end of January that we've reached "The Dead of Winter." It signifies that we're at the mid-point of winter. Most of us are quite tired of what we've been experiencing this winter as I watch the snow begin to fall once more. I'm tired of less light, of polar vortex's, wind chills, sub-zero temps, of slippery roads, and not being able to enjoy tropical drinks from my patio.

 I'm watching the ever increasing snow fall in "The Dead of Winter waiting for a furry rodent to appear and tell me how much winter I'll have to endure and persevere. Although, I've come to understand it doesn't much matter if the furry rodent comes or not... winter continues until it doesn't. It doesn't matter because it still is the same amount of time nonetheless.

Winter is just a season in life. It happens every year... seasons change... we move from winter to spring, to summer, to fall, and return to winter every year with seemingly little effort. But it seems this winter season is much harder. It's colder than I remember. Snowier. Windier. Colder. I remember in younger years that I liked winter. Friends would gather to sled down a hill. We would ice skate in backyard ponds, play hockey, grab the bumpers of cars and slide down the road. Of course, there's no real car bumpers anymore so the younger generation looks at you a bit odd when you tell them you did this. We would make snow forts and have snow ball fights and it was fun. Now... "The Dead of Winter" has me frowning. It's cold and I have to be out in it. I have work to do. I must shovel and sno-blow the drive and sidewalks. I really don't like it.

The snow continues to fall. Winter is but one season and life has many seasons. The winter season is often understood as death or dieing. Spring is about new life. Summer about growing, and fall about harvest and celebration of a productive year. In younger years I spent winter time dreaming of the future. One had hope that things were about to change and life would be exciting. There's a story where young people will see visions and old folks having dreams. As one grows... dreams and hope seem to mature. There is less excitement about the future. While there might be hope... it's much more controlled, reserved, and held pretty tightly to the vest.

"The Dead of Winter" has me perusing the obituary page of our local paper more frequently. While I don't consider myself old, I am approaching an age where I will have less life ahead of me than I've already lived. I was reading that the average life expectancy now about 82 years. When I began my adult years it was about 72. Which by the way is remarkable when you think about it. I plan to live into my 90's as my linage has demonstrated by my grand parents. So... "The Dead of Winter" has me looking back perhaps more than I should, but I believe it's what happens. We tend reminisce as we mature and reflect on what has happened and what could have been. I think there's hope in that. I think it helps us see better and to be more grateful of what has happened in life. And to see that all the dreams were in fact, not really all that important in the end.

I lived in a warmer climate for a while. I never thought I would like it... but I did. I liked it a-lot. There was little seasonal change and the only way you knew was by the calendar on the wall. Does it mean people in these area's don't experience "The Dead of Winter?" I think not... it's just different. Maybe... that's the point. Difference or In-Difference. I don't know for sure, but it's still snowing and I'm still waiting for that furry rodent to show up and tell me "The Dead of Winter" will end and the season will change, and there is good reason to dream and hope anew.