Happy 2013! And my 100th post…Posted: January 5, 2013
I have been doing a lot of reflect over the last few days and it seems fitting: It’s a new year. I added another notch in my birthday belt two weeks ago, and it is my 100th blog post on becominganomad. I am still having a hard time believing that it has been over a year and a half since I started blogging our first days in Alaska, and it seems even harder to believe that since then we have camped, hiked, backpacked, and eaten our way across the country to our new home in PA. I still get misty-eyed when I think of Alaska, so it seems fitting that today as I reflect on the last year, and this blog, that I have snow on the brain.
I smile to think that in elementary school I was one of the only kids who always voted winter my favorite season, and it carries over to today (although fall is creeping up there at a very close second). Something about being able to see your breath and boots and snow days and forts created out of piles of snow and the way the world transforms in white has always left me breathless. I still press my nose to the cold window glass near the end of fall wishing for snow. Lots of snow.
As you get older snow has more practical consequences, like shoveling and tough driving, but I still can’t seem to help myself. I will always wish for snow. I love the way the world looks when it snows. Suddenly everything is different: brighter, quieter, cleaner. It is almost like a fresh start.
This winter (in stark contrast to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and Alaska) I feel as if I am playing hide-and-go-seek with snow. It is teasing me. It appears, bright-white, wet, and heavy, blanketing the street and the trees, only to melt into clumps of gray, crusty-chunks bunched in piles near my car. Everything melts too fast for me to sink into the quiet of snow.
It seems strange to still be heading out to walk in just a fleece. Like spring. Snow transitioning to ice and disappearing all around. The walking path a sheet of crumpled glass. The creek near our house running deep, cold, and clear. The broken edges of a snow pile giving way to green. Although I am missing the depth and scope and beauty of a pure winter, lately, I have also been enjoying the battle. Here and gone and in-between.
But, I still have my fingers crossed for piles and piles of snow. Don’t be mad folks that are ready for winter to be over 🙂
Cheers to snow and the new year and a 100 more adventures to come!