A new appreciation for winter blues

WORDS ON A PAGE

By Nathan Grote
IV Leader Columnist, Feb. 17, 2011

    I’m just like you. When I walk out in the morning into single digit temperatures, I curse under my breath.
    I’ve had ice put me on my ass, and I’ve shoveled more than my share of snow. But really, I think we are all a bit too hard on winter.
    Just about everyone, myself included, deals with the inhospitable cold by complaining to others (as if they’re not as cold as you). We hate it, we’re sick of it, we can’t wait for it to be over.
    Yet despite the hardships of winter, I must say I’m glad to have them. The biting wind, the precarious driving, the absence of certain produce at the grocery store —while I won’t always proclaim it, deep down, I am appreciative.
    And I say this having spent nearly a week without heat or hot water this past December due to a problem with the gas company.
    Why? No, I haven’t lost my marbles.
    My take is this — regardless of where you are on this planet, Mother Nature has both good and bad things in store for you. Us northern folk must deal with the freezing temperatures, a few blizzards, serious thunderstorms, and the occasional tornado.
    Now sure, between Sarasota and San Diego one can sunbathe year round and wear shorts in January. Yet as we know, the perpetual warmth of these places fosters life in all its forms.
    We humans find life at 80 degrees to be pleasant, as do alligators, scorpions, gigantic spiders, mosquitos, malaria, and middle aged nudists. I don’t know about you, but the day I come across a rattlesnake in my backyard is the day I pack up and head north. The wildlife up there is big, furry, and docile. The climate guarantees it.
    Truly, I think having to endure the harshness of this season makes us a better people.
    The yin and yang duality of summer and winter keeps us humbled, resilient, and downright jubilant when we finally thaw out and things become green again; whereas people accustomed to a 75 degree average probably don’t even notice when the seasons change.
    And just between us Yankees, don’t you get a kick when it snows an inch and a half in the south and they immediately close everything because they don’t know how to handle it?
    This article itself won’t warm you up (unless you use it to kindle a fire), but consideration that you don’t have to buy plywood every year in preparation for hurricane season or be trained in snake bite first aid may be a comforting thought the next time you bundle up and head outside.
    And take heart — human, animal, or plant, one must be tough to live here.
    Or crazy.