The Day the Seasons Changed
Don't let the current climate change your hearts.
On Wednesday of this week, I was lamenting another overcast day, one of several consecutive gray days. Already, my solar lanterns had lost too much energy to light up the nights as they did this past summer, but the days and nights were not yet cold, despite the breezes that had been mostly consistent for the past few weeks.
About the time I was pining for some sunshine, the sun emerged from the clouds and shone through the misting rain falling on the hayfield out front, but not the lake out back. I smiled at the light beams, thinking, “These are rainbow conditions.” So I got up from my writing chair to peer out the back door glass, and lo and behold, a small rainbow glimmered over the lake in such a matter that I could see both ends of the bow on opposite banks.
The sunshine, misting rain, and mini-rainbow lasted a little over five minutes, and I could not help but thank the day for such a treat — not just the sunshine I asked for, but also a swath of color amidst the now-brown hillsides.
When the sun, bow, and mist faded, the breezes kicked up into serious winds, and the temperature started to fall. I understood, at that moment, that my mini-rainbow was Autumn saying, “I’m out of here, see you next year.” And that night was winter cold.
Thursday, windy and cold, a bit of a bluster came through, first with rain, then sleet, then fat, fluffy wet snow that lingered at higher elevations, and this morning, Friday, we awakened to a wet, white world.
Yes, Autumn left on Wednesday, and Winter could not wait to make a bit of an entrance.
Because I work from home, I would not be bothered by a grand slam of snowfall, a winter of accumulation that builds over time like the winters of my youth. I know that our winters are warmer now since the U.S. Department of Agriculture released a new version of its Plant Hardiness Zone Map. (The zones are determined by what will winter over.) On Wednesday, I could still see insects flying through the air, and I’m hoping this cold snap wraps up bug season as well.
I am ready to hibernate. In May of this year, I stopped reading local newspapers and quit all national news outside The New York Times in August. On November 1, I left Facebook after 17 years. Apparently, this is a national trend. I read this morning that the most trusted news source in the United States is The Weather Channel. How sad is that?
With my journalism background, I have to say that I am not at all surprised. I have watched journalistic ethics crumble - much to my frustration and disgust, especially on a local level. People now trust social media posts and comments more than any news source — and it shows.
I have learned, especially this year, that people believe what they want to believe. There was a time when I believed true and accurate information could somehow make a difference. But we have come to a time when emotion outranks reason and the ends justify the means.
At what point do we recognize this as a building block for chaos? At what point is civilization no longer considered civilized?
I spent two hours yesterday with two friends I had not seen in a while, and the only manner or mention of the election was presented as “before the election” and “since the election.” I realized, as likely they did, amongst the four present, we canceled out each other’s votes. But we were more interested in catching up, sharing our struggles and joys, than focusing on current cultural events.
We gasped and smiled when the view out the window turned white with snow, we hugged and made promises to do better staying in touch, even though we had just spent two hours discussing how overwhelmed we were with our lives after the past year. Those two hours were a blessing for me, a reminder that good friendships need not be splintered by politics.
Like a brief rainbow during a moment of sunshine on a gray overcast day.
I’m still ready to hibernate. When given the option to socialize or stay home, I’m always inclined to stay home. And as I write this, snowflakes again fall from the sky. If winter has come, I would prefer it come with snow, though my body and spirit still crave sunlight. I think how grateful I am that I - and my friends and family - are warm, and sheltered, and safe.
No matter your political affiliations, I urge you to not let them separate you from your family and friends this holiday season. We need to know that our love for each other surpasses politics. Have conversations about your lives, not news, and work to tell your stories, sharing your successes and struggles. Work to make your relationships personal, not political As we near Thanksgiving, remember to be thankful for each other, and that Christmas is the season of peace.