In this moment, the little busy town of Brighton is experiencing a blustery snow thunderstorm – that is a heavy snowstorm with both thunder and lightning. I find that most people tend to react considerably jaded and spiteful towards this weather, but I can’t help but feel warm and joyous in the midst of the frigid air. There are no expectations tied to cold weather, no obligations to be out in the sun soaking ‘it all’ in, making the most out of the complacent weather.
Instead, a blanket of silence muffles the streets, science entwined within every crystalline formation, beautiful capsulations of light float distended on air and a contagious energy flows from the wilderness.
It makes me want to howl. AWOOO-OOOO!!
Throughout my childhood and into adulthood, every Saturday (sometimes Sunday) my immediate family would listen to a radio broadcast called A Prairie Home Companion together in a fashion as if we were sitting around a warm fire, sharing together in stories and becoming inspired. Sometimes we were silly, my father making humorous chicken impersonations with the sound effects man. Sometimes we were sad and reflected together. A man alone on a dark cold night, glimpses of nostalgia, a portal into the past, other worlds that could no longer ever be, but somehow always were. To me, this is home.
Often, I think back to these moments, the calming voice and wisdom of Garrison Keillor carries my heart through lonely days. This script excerpt titled, ‘Cold Script’ is one of my personal favourites and exemplifies exactly my feelings on cold weather: http://prairiehome.publicradio.org/programs/2005/01/01/scripts/cold.shtml
So, when you’re out in the cold today, perhaps hurrying to work or class, caught in the hustle and bustle of angry sentience held up by what is widely considered nature’s inconvenience, stop for a moment.
Look up into the sky, and just for an instant, remember the snowmen. Remember what it feels like to sled down a freshly powdered hillside, build an igloo, throw a firmly rounded snowball, to hear and feel the crush of tiny soft crystals under your boot.
Remember what it tastes like to have a snowflake dance upon your tongue.
Open your mouth.
Stick out your tongue.