I prefer winter and fall when you feel the bone structure of the landscape

Summary

The author reflects on the personal significance of winter and its parallels to life's challenges, drawing inspiration from Andrew Wyeth's appreciation for the season's stark beauty and underlying potential for renewal.

Abstract

The text is a personal essay that delves into the author's complex relationship with winter, both literally and metaphorically. It opens with a quote from Andrew Wyeth, emphasizing the season's raw beauty and the anticipation of life that lies dormant beneath the snow. The author reveals a deep connection to Wyeth's perspective, using it as a lens to explore their own experiences with the harshness of winter and the metaphorical "winters" of life. Recounting a harrowing drive through a snowstorm, the author describes feelings of fear and vulnerability, juxtaposed with moments of introspection and resilience. The essay reflects on a period of personal hardship, likening it to an extended winter filled with isolation and despair. However, the author also finds solace and self-discovery in the quiet and solitude of the season, symbolized by a comforting cup of tea. The narrative concludes with an acknowledgment of the season's inevitable transition to spring, expressing ambivalence about the potential for internal change that the warmer weather might bring.

Opinions

The author admires Andrew Wyeth and finds his quote on winter resonates deeply with their own experiences.
Winter is personified as a time of hardship and introspection, with its starkness mirroring the author's personal struggles.
The act of driving in a snowstorm becomes a metaphor for navigating life's unpredictable and dangerous moments.
The author expresses a preference for the solitude and reflection that winter brings, despite its challenges.
There is a sense of reluctance to embrace the coming of spring, as the author has found a sense of identity and comfort in the isolation of winter.
The essay conveys a hope that the end of winter might signal a positive transformation in the author's life, although there is uncertainty about this change.

A nod to Andrew Wyeth.

Our backyard after a snowstorm — pic taken by the author.

My favorite artist and a quote that speaks to me about the dread of winter and being wintered literally and metaphorically. But once the snow melts and the cold disappears, life will lift its head from under.

It was mid-winter, and there was no sign of the snowy, cold dark days letting go. I heard there was a storm coming in the late afternoon. I went to work, as I was in charge, and thought I could head back home before the snow started. I got engrossed in my work, and by 4 pm, it looked dark, and the snow was piling up. I must confess I am neither a winter person nor one who loves snow. I wasn't happy as I cleaned my car, put it on to heat, and started my drive. I was a half hour away from home, and I figured if I drove slowly I would be home in an hour.

The streets were cleaned, and the cleaning trucks were all over, continuously cleaning so I felt comfortable, and put on music. I had to take the highway, and as I entered onto the ramp, it seemed as if I had come to another planet. It was one big mess, with snow piling up and now turning to freezing rain, creating hazardous conditions for driving. Cars were blinking lights, going five miles an hour, some were parked on the side. I quickly turned off the music, my heart fluttering and my breath uneasy. This was not going to be easy. I had to be careful I didn't skid or get hit by another car if it lost control. At times like this, I revert to prayers because I know no human can save me from a disaster waiting to happen. I drove very slowly in the right lane, keeping a good distance.

There was little visibility, my eyes ached, and I had a headache from the pressure of seeing in the dark, foggy weather. I was concentrating so intensely that I lept and screamed when a truck whizzed by close to me. It looked as if it was coming into my lane. At this point, I was crying and praying loudly for help. I just wanted to get home. It didn’t help when I passed accidents, one on this side of the highway and then one on the other. I had been driving for half an hour, and I was nowhere close to the house. Should I stop for a while, or should I keep moving? I decided I would keep moving, it was getting late, and the storm would get worse as the evening wore on.

I was scared and tense with stress. To distract myself, I decided to write a story mentally and get my mind off of this horrible situation. How did I end up in a place like this when I hated cold so much? I traveled back in time to many years ago. On my wedding day, when I left my birth country to live in Germany for three years, and finally to the United States to settle for good. I was young and the winter didn’t bother me much, but my life became one long winter when things started going wrong at home, at my husband’s work, with family, and with friends. There was this cold dark force that kept pulling at me and taking me down. Eight years ago trauma hit and changed everything. It was as if someone had locked me up in a cold, dark room.

I looked forward to fall and started liking winter. I was homebound caring for the two men I loved who were broken and dependent on me. Only necessary activity took me out of the house. My life became like the winter: cold, stark, dark, and filled with non-ending despair. I shunned company, and social activities held little interest. Unlike the birds who migrate and more like the animals who hibernate, I wanted to hide in the arms of the winter, cradled by the loneliness and the quiet of the weather. A hot cup of tea was my constant companion, giving me respite from the chill and frost. My winter companion taught me to appreciate and love myself. That was enough, the music, painting, and writing were enough. In a few months, the winter will lose its ferocity and bareness and slowly give in to the warmth of the coming season. I am not looking forward to that. The change will bring the brightness of the sky, the color of the landscape that I love, but the emptiness inside wants the outside to feel and look the same.

I am not sure if the warmer, brighter, and kinder weather will spur a change inside of me. I hope so, I have been wintering for a while, and the loneliness and the bareness of this landscape are now taking a toll on my soul.

Dedicated to February.