W is for Winter

For a long time, during my childhood, I would look forward to winter. It wasn't my favorite season, as I tended to favor whatever season it happened to be. I lived, as I did for nearly all of my life, in Tennessee. The woods around my Mamaw and Papaw's house were largely made up of deciduous trees, bushes, poison ivy, and bugs. In the summer, they were thick with brush, thickets of thorn, ticks, and poison ivy. Quickly I learned how little I liked being scratched, bitten, and itchy.

In the winter, all that was gone. The malignant wildlife settled down into a cozy slumber. The animals I liked - rabbits, squirrels, and deer - were still around. Even though I would sometimes help my papaw hunt two out of three of them and liked the taste of them (especially deer), I considered them interesting and wouldn't have hurt any of them. I could see further in the woods without all of the greenery, each trunk a grey pillar to dance around, hide behind, and climb upon. The dead trees, laid down onto the ground, normally arched and twisted in interesting ways, so that they were challenging ballancing beams. The ground was littered with leaves that hadn't yet decomposed, still relatively crisp and fresh for kicking around. It was easier to find dead wood to use as sticks, which would quickly become swords to fight imaginary opponents off with. I used to pretend a lot, and the woods were the best place to do it. And on occasions when I got tired of my younger cousins, I knew enough to hide there indefinitely. It was my playground during winter as it couldn't be any other time of the year.

The biting cold was also refreshing. I could really feel the warmth of the sun on my cheeks when it was out, and it tickled pleasantly. It wasn't too cold normally, so that there was no problem with leaving my face free. For a while I wondered that my cheeks and ears didn't stay red permanently because I spent so much time outside. I could see my breath, moist puffs like a steam engine. I knew that it would be hot eventually; I liked hot weather too, but I was all the more determined to enjoy this novelty. And, it being Tennessee, there would be breaks, occasions where I could wear short sleeves and remember how it feels to not be cold at all outside.

I needn't mention snow, except to say that when good snows came, it was a special time filled with snowmen, snowball fights, and sledding interspersed with drying clothes and drinking hot chocolate.

And of course there are the holidays, especially Chrismas and New Year's Day. That meant time off from school, which meant more time to play. Peace and harmony for all entered into it too.

So, honeysuckle would come. The dazzling green of newly leafed trees would emerge and settle into more mature shades with time. The birds would return. Even now, winter isn't negative for me, because any death that comes with it implies a renewal. The child in me assents to that judgment.