First Winter in Saint Louis

Early spring in winter...

Signs of green in the midst of snow.

I live across the street from this snowy field.

Snow and Sand Tiramisu

There are first times for everything, and last week, for the first time, I saw sand and snow frozen together in a beautiful, rugged swirl not unlike tiramisu. So beautiful.

Snow

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know our planet is slowly dying. In certain places, the earth is rotting, crumbling, drying out, eroding at rates faster and more deadly than we can anticipate. Yet, there remain many spaces where we can still witness the beauty of God's creation. This winter, I visited one of those places. Nowhere spectacular, just some little frozen lake, surrounded by trees stripped bare and park benches with inviting seats. Come see for yourself...

December Moon by May Sarton

One night when I was visiting Grand Rapids, I was awakened at 3:30 a.m. by the sound of hard scraping from the driveway. I knew the cold meant snow, and I felt it in my bones. But I never thought about the folks who get up at that ungodly hour to go scraping snow off of people's driveways. What did they think about? What did they do? Did it feel like they were at play in the dark? Did they think about making shapes instead of simply clearing away all that white flurry packed on concrete? Did they ever want to pile the snow in front of people's front doors like gift packages to be opened? Were they ever beguiled by the white snow reflected in moonlight -- tempted to momentarily forget their jobs and simply marvel at that snow silence?

Before going to bed
After a fall of snow
I look out on the field
Shining there in the moonlight
So calm, untouched and white
Snow silence fills my head
After I leave the window.

Hours later near dawn
When I look down again
The whole landscape has changed
The perfect surface gone
Criss-crossed and written on
Where the wild creatures ranged
While the moon rose and shone.

Why did my dog not bark?
Why did I hear no sound
There on the snow-locked ground
In the tumultuous dark?

How much can come, how much can go
When the December moon is bright,
What worlds of play we'll never know
Sleeping away the cold white night
After a fall of snow.

boxing it up, fencing it off

The snow was pristine, white, silent. Everything was beautiful and quiet and lovely. It was my very first time to snowshoe. I was a novice, and completely naive about maneuvering my way around land completely covered in snow. You could not see what was on the ground because of layers of whiteness that covered everything -- clean or dirty, broken or whole. Everything was more beautiful, cleaner, brighter, purer. Trampling around in the snow, winding our way through the trees, it seemed like the everything was right with the world. Nothing could be fresher, more natural, or cleaner.

It made me think that so much of the world was like this contradiction: beautiful white snow covering the ground, just like so many other beautiful things covering up our minor errors, our great insecurities, our gross imperfections. We trample around above them all, believing that everything was pristine and whole, hoping that what we cover it up with will eventually help us to forget. We rely on the vagaries of memory, and the imperfections of history to lull us into believing we have managed to make the world right. We have effectively wrapped up every social injustice, every war, every experience of violence and covered it in white snow.

We forgot who we were and where we were as we trekked around the beautiful landscape. It wasn't long though, because we soon heard someone emerging from his log cabin to yell at us. Apparently we had been trespassing on his property. Underneath the wintry beauty, he had fenced off his own bit of nature, partitioned it as his own and refused to share it with his fellow humans. It was private property. Privatized nature.

The attitude of "mine/yours" doesn't surprise me; we put virtual and physical borders around everything. We mark our territories, and we stake our claims. From the beginning of time, from Adam and Eve, we've wanted to label what is "ours." But it irritates me to see such proprietariness. Who are we in the scheme of things to demand exclusive rights to nature? It's been ingrained in us to take and hoard; it's still a shame. Shame on us for doing so.

How do I get back to this????

Trekking Through Snow Country

Saturday morning, we took up snowshoes and trekked around the cabin. Snow was high, and the trees were beautiful, and everything was quiet. We had a grand time.

Saturday afternoon, we went out to Rainbow drive and trekked around in snowshoes. The amazing landscape belonged to us, no sound but the whisper of air rustling, no other color but pristine white snow.

Arriving in snow country

Last Saturday, we drove through clear weather and beautiful skies toward Soda Springs. We came to snow and quickly took Exit 174 to the cabin...

We stayed in a cabin not unlike this neighboring one. Saturday morning, I noticed the couple next door busily shoveling snow off their balcony...


Luckily, we did not get a lot of snow over night and our balcony was relatively clear. By mid-morning, the light dusting was melted by the bright sun.

Back from Snowshoe-ing!!

For the first time in my life, I realized what it meant to wear tennis rackets on my feet to trekk through at least a foot of snow. Yeah!

Will write more later as I am now recovering, still, from the trip...