A Simple Winter Morning

Right now the day is beautiful compared to what the area faced in the last 36-48 hours. Still cold, but the sun is bright and turning the snow and ice to a more manageable slush. Since I am not afforded the luxury of a garage and forced to park on the subdivision lot, I was out at 3:45 A.M. armed with a broom and ice scrapper, wearing my jeans over my flannel P.J bottom, two sweat shirts, my winter coat, jungle boots and a hat, since I heard that a hat keeps the body warmth in, but the only time I wear a hat is when I am hiking in the summer to protect me from the sun and heat, I prepared to exhume the car from it’s wintry grave and make a feeble attempt to make it into work. I had missed the day before due to the icy road conditions and thought that if I skipped another, I just might be keen on making this a regular way of life.

While it was not all that difficult clearing the 8” of snow from the exterior of the car, the 8” of snow and ice surrounding the metal hulk would prove to be much more difficult to get the better of as I soon learned. I soon found that the “R” on the gear box, which I always considered short for “Reverse”, actually meant sideways. How naïve I have become. The engine struggled and the R.P.Ms raced as I rocked back and forth to free myself from the icy tomb. No luck and there the car sat on a 45 degree angle. Feeling cold and defeated, I went back to the apartment for a few more sips of hot coffee and another look at the Doppler radar hoping against all hopes that the band of precipitation was moving out of the viewing area forthwith.

My hopes were dashed when I returned outside to make another attempt. The snow, which was supposed to have subsided hours ago, had now actually gained in intensity. I knew immediately that I was not going anywhere for awhile and might as well make the best of a bad situation.

My cat had reminded me earlier, while I sat with my coffee, rubbing against my legs as he does when hunger pangs hit, that the food level in his bowl was dangerously low. I discovered that the box was on “E” as in empty. As I stood there in the cold snowy darkness, I decided that a trek to the nearest convenience store was in order. Why not? I’ll see what the streets look like. And so I began my urban hike through the mounds of snow winding my way through the subdivision up to the street on my half mile there, half mile back slog .

The street was empty except for one or two brave souls precariously navigating the icy roads. I walked in the street for the sidewalks were impassable or simply nonexistent. All was silent and the snowflakes held such beauty illuminated by the street lights. I walked the half mile there and half mile back in total awe of the works of the Creator. How the beauty of the snow, the serenity of the moment could transcend the inconvenience it caused. I was so wrapped up in thought, that I was at the store before I knew it. As luck would have it, the store was out of the food that my precious kitty craves and the only brand he will eat. So I made the return trip empty handed, but better off in my mind for the experience.

I think back to the times in my life when trivial inconveniences such as those endured this morning would have angered me and left me drowning in a pool of self-pity. But with each step I took this morning, I found my spirit growing stronger. A bad experience can become a growth opportunity. An opportunity to overcome our human frailties and historical failures and look only to the future.

Since I was dressed for the weather and pumped with adrenalin, I grabbed my broom and scrapper and walked over to my daughter’s apartment. I knew it was not only important for her to make her way to work no matter what the conditions, but also imperative that she do so. There in the street sat her pride and joy - her new car covered with ice and snow. I went to work and soon it was the only car on the block not covered with the remnants of the storm.

She called to thank me. Two good things in one day. I’m on a roll

The Cabin

I find that I can no longer easily tolerate these changes in temperature. I leave for work and the temperature is sufferable, but by the time I arrive the wind has picked up and it feels as if the thermometer has bottomed out. I know that is not quite the case, but I can feel a marked difference. Then there are those warm sunny days that turn into bone chilling nights. So, my plans for camping out on a wintry night have been put on the back burner and I’ll wait until the springtime to pitch a tent. Hopefully this year won’t be as wet as the last.

But this past Saturday, I was treated by my friend to a modified form of camping. A little cabin in the woods complete with a gigantic stone fireplace for an indoor campfire. A perfect setting to erase all thoughts of the hustle and bustle of the daily rat race. That night the campfire glowed bright and the only sound heard was the crackling of the fire.

A beautiful quiet night with the full moon hanging in the sky and the earth awash in it’s brilliant light. Twice during the night, I awoke to gaze out the window into the forest. How serene the setting. The shadows of the trees against the ground. All was quiet and calm. No cars, trains or planes to disturb my thoughts. If any of the forest inhabitants were awake, they were not causing a commotion this night. Like me, they were probably giving thanks to their Creator for the beauty of it all.

While I may have been in a trance with the beauty of it all, the night caused me to reflect on the past and give thought to the future. Secret thoughts that for this time must remain deep inside for permitting them to escape my lips might cause me to be misunderstood. How I wish the night would have never come to an end, although in my spirit it will remain forever. I could spend the rest of my life in that cabin near the forest.

Sunday was warm and sunny, but as the day ended and the sun fell from the sky I felt an uncomfortable chill again come across my body . Now I realize that it isn't so much the weather as it is me.