Preparing for Winter

I made my last trip of the year to Québec City and Montreal last week, counting on there being no snow while I drove the 1000 km to get there and another 1000 km to come back.  There was no snow; however, it rained the whole week I was away.  Still, I'd prepared by having my winter tires put on the car, and I ventured forward with caution, driving slowly enough to enjoy the amazing scenery of going upstream on the shores of the mighty St. Lawrence River.

Upon my return, I heard on the news that the snow had followed us on our return trip.  I laughed at this good planning on my part but knew I am going to have to face winter, and soon.

I began to leaf through my copy of Winter:  A Spiritual Biography of the Season edited by Gary Schmidt and Susan M. Felch.  Nothing like having to meet winter head-on.  I delighted in Barry Lopez' essay "Ice and Light" from his book Arctic Dreams.  Let me quote a few lines:

"It is my habit when I travel to note resemblances, particularly of form and color.  For example ... the sound of a native drum made from walrus intestine and its uncanny resemblance to the underwater voice of the walrus."

Isn't that wonderful?

I can't find the paragraphs in David Abram's book The Spell of the Sensuous where he talks about the tragedy of the loss of the sound of an animal now extinct, as if the universe is deprived of that small contribution to the community of sounds.  Maybe it's because the passage I seem to remember was written by someone else.

But I'm fascinated with this kind of thing.  It's all part of us knowing our universe, delighting in it.

Henri Dorion is a Québec author and former diplomat who has written a book called Éloge de la frontière.  I haven't bought it yet (am saving that little pleasure for one day in the depths of winter when I need a little distraction from the routine of bringing in wood, making and stoking the fire, writing and needing to put on the lights at 2 p.m.).  In it, apparently, he talks about "émerveillement responsable", or "responsible wonder".  I heard that on the radio one day when I was too busy to grab a pencil and paper to jot down the context for the unforgetable phrase.  Immediately, my fantasies about what he might mean went on the track of sustainable consumption, responsible consumption and it may not be about that at all.  To know for sure, I will have to wait for the dismal day in February when I need to get away from the "scouring of the soul" the Winter biography talks about, and focus on responsible wonder which I hope defies all limitations imposed by seasons.

Let it snow.

Comments

[Amy Lenzo]

What wonderful musings, Ann!

I love how you bring us into your landscape, and let us share it with you. Be sure to bring me a bit of the snow when it comes - I miss it here in California.

[Ann Jarnet]

Amy, don't say that.... I just may send you the first load! Or, you can come and help me shovel!