I have always had the feeling that autumn equates renewal. I believe that it has something to do with starting school every year – all of those years – the butterflies associated with change fluttering in one’s stomach as the end of the summer approaches.
But winter? Egads. I have never quite known what to do with myself. I have mostly lived in a four season climate, and it will invariably become frigid as the days pass into December. Before I moved here, I had been hardened by a few Minnesota winters. I certainly lollygagged through those few months of cold – not in the least bit interested to get out and go.
Now, though, the winter beckons and the snow can’t fall fast enough. Here in Teton Valley, I want to cross country ski and whip out the snow shoes. This place is not four seasons, not by a stretch. It’s mostly winter. Then there is a three to five week period sometime in early June called “mud season”, which I suppose may be our spring. Then there is summer. Sometimes we get lucky and it stretches out until the end of September or so. Then Halloween comes. Then it starts to snow. Fall is another flash in the pan. “Get outta the way, bitches, I am winter. I last the longest.”
And so it has gone this year: it started to snow just after October came to a close, and although there have been some warmer days (40+ degrees) somewhere in between, the ski hill is open today and it is a long journey to the end of May. I couldn’t possible twiddle my thumbs through winter in this place. We may possibly have to bear seven or eight months of it. It is not wise to stay holed up that long.
It is sunny today, but brilliantly white and windy. And the snow pack continues to grow.