Winter is the slow down
Winter is the search for self
Winter gives the silence we need to listen
Winter goes gray so we can see our own colors…” Terry Guillimets
I always anticipate the first snow hike of the winter season. One of my favorite local desitinations is the Margarette Falls Trail in Greeneville, Tennessee. The weekend weather forecast brought rumors of a coming snowstorm and sure enough, come Monday afternoon, the snow was falling and the ground was turning white. Tuesday morning’s sunrise presented a winter wonderland of freshly fallen snow. Plans were made for a gathering of friends and a quick after work hike on Wednesday. As our feet traveled up the crunchy trail, we were serenaded by the chilling waters of Dry Creek as it flowed over frozen rocks, and tumbled down cascades cloaked in artistic ice formations from the overspray. The crisp winter air laid gently on our exposed cheeks, bringing an exhilrating sensation as it rushed through our nostrils, warming our lungs on the uphill climb. My senses were on overload and I felt like a kid in a candy shop, standing in awe of the brilliant winter landscape before us. As we approached the falls, it was no surprise that Margarette would be stunning wrapped in her new winter wardrobe. Oh, what a blessing to experience such beauty and share moments and laughter with friends in such an incredible place. We returned home with refreshed souls and our longing for nature therapy fullfilled.
As Thursday morning greeted my sleepy eyes, my thoughts were still lingering on our hike. I used to despise winter and being cold is one of my least favorite things. Every year as Autumn approached, I could feel the dread of the cold days that were coming creeping up inside of me Nothing about the winter season appealed to me. I loathed the frigid temperatures that caused my entire body to shiver for months, the naked trees, the browns and grays, and the troublesome snow, well it was just a curse word to me. The only thing I smiled at was seeing my children play, building snowmen, snow angels, snowball fights and sledding. In the spring of 2013, when I discovered the hobby of hiking and something miraculous shifted in my mindset. I fell head over heels in love with nature on my first outing.The sights, the sounds, the wonders of nature all captivated my soul and with each new adventure, I fell deeper in love. The spring and summer wildfowers, the vast amount of different fungi, the getting up early to witness the sun break the horizon and say hello to the new day, the starry skies that covered me as I hiked out in the dark after watching the sun kiss the earth goodnight. The high peaks, the low valleys, the creeks and the waterfalls, the fiery red skies, the emerald green mossy forests, the colorwheel of leaves falling from the trees. I was enamored by it all and looked forward to every oppportunity that I had to put my feet on a trail. As the seasons changed and the days grew colder, I remember feeling a little downhearted about missing a few months of being out and a friend suggested a winter hike. What? Me, outside in the winter? As crazy as it sounded, I decided to give it a try. Needless to say, I was just as fascinated with mother nature in all of her winter glory as I was with her on her warm days. Eleven years later, I look forward to those winter destinations that cannot be tried safely in the hot summer months as the trails breed lots of overgrowth, briars and dangers of snakes.
While laying snuggled up under my covers with my doggie cuddled against me, I came across the above quote on social media. It’s one of those quotes that when you read it, it seizes your every being. I refelcted on how I use to see winter as my enemy, however these days, I look at her with a much grander perspective.The older I get the more I realize that just as the earth needs a respite from all of its blooming, so does my soul. Winter isn’t meant to break me, but instead a season to remove that which is not necessary and reveal the foundation which holds me together. Who am I underneath the vivid colors of growth? What virtues remain to steady me in the bitter winds and stripping away to bare bones? How deep is the faith that will carry me through until the sun warms the frozen ground again? Until the first new bud rises up with courage and perseverance and the songbird stirs a fresh melody of hope in my heart?
Ah winter, you are more of a friend to me than I have realized. My loyal companion who is not afraid to speak the truth. My comforter when my covering is sparse. You are my iron that sharpens iron. You teach me the art of letting go. Come, do your work in me until spring comes to sweep me off of my feet again.
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