The changes of season might be my favorite facet of life in New England.
This year I saw the first sign of spring’s arrival when I sat down with my morning coffee near the kitchen window, and noticed the daylight was softer, somehow, and warmer. Next, the wind lost its hard edge, and now the birds are coming back.
Today it’s over 40 degrees outside, and sunny, and what’s left of our snow is melting away here in the White Mountains. As an audiophile I take annual delight in hearing this transition from winter to spring.
It’s gentle at first as the rhythmic dripping of melting ice and snow; next comes a more sprightly babbling as brooks and streams come back to life; then the rivers swell as the mountains shrug their frozen coats. Finally the vernal pools come to life with peepers, a sound that instantly transports me back to childhood, when my mother would take my sister and brothers and me on evening drives past Campton Pond, windows down, to listen for the whistling froggies. (Those two words, by the way, were the first I ever spoke.)
My dog Mila and I enjoyed a white Christmas this year, while I was home for a few days between adventures.
This year I was out of the country for most of the winter, after spending Christmas in New Hampshire, so I missed the hardest, coldest part of the season. Many reasonable people would be justified in calling me mad for lamenting this, but there’s something about making the annual slog through those dark, frozen, quiet months that calms my spirit.
This year I spent January and February well south of the equator, and my internal calendar is still off as a result, so a part of me is sad to see the season go.
Turns out I’m not the only one…
On a recent broadcast of the PBS NewsHour, essayist Julia Keller said a reluctant goodbye to winter in a lovely video postcard.
Click here to listen to the audio portion of her essay.
The piece came on toward the end of the broadcast, as I was making dinner, and I started out paying attention to it only peripherally. Then the writing caught my ear, as did the images of winter stillness, and before I knew it I was entranced.
Unfortunately the video postcard doesn’t seem to be available, but I highly recommend listening to the podcast version, or reading the transcript, as you bid winter your own farewell.
i would tell you how **i** bid farewell to winter, only it would careen wildly past the bounds of decency into scandalous obscenity zone. and by the way, celebrating when the temp creeps above 40 degrees is insane. talk to me when we’re hitting 78 degrees and sunny, girlfriend. c’mon. winter is evil. when will you new englanders get that through your snow-worshipping skulls???
but, um, other than that, i love how you wrote this. whistling froggies? very cool.