Alexandersmap

    Tag: winter

    • Ice and Snow

      New England in winter is a land of ice and snow.  Sure, there’s all that other stuff here, but when you live here you’re always aware of these two things that encroach on your daily routine more than anything else.  Want to double or triple the time it takes you to get to the office?  Add ice and snow.  It’s the one thing New Englanders never get tired of talking about.  Well, that and sports.

      This morning we got a dusting of snow.  Maybe half an inch of fluffy white snow.  Nothing for us, especially on February 1st.  Now on April 1 we might think half an inch of snow was psychological warfare, but we wouldn’t even bother shoveling it.  You do the math when you live in New England.  Snow in April will go away quickly.  Even the crocuses would laugh at half an inch of snow in April.  Back in February this barely registers.  Just brush of the car and move on, right?

      The wild card with this snow was the ice underneath it.  Snow is a headache but we know it well.  Ice is our other headache, and we deal with it.  Put ice on top of snow and you get a nice crusty treat that my dog Bodhi loves to snack on during our walks.  Crunch & munch the entire walk.  He’s never met a crusty snow bank that he didn’t love.  Add a little road salt and he’s in heaven.  Ice on snow can be beautiful as it glimmers in the sun.  You aren’t making snowballs out of this stuff, but at least it’s nice to look at.

      Ice and snow in reverse is a different story.  Put a half an inch of snow on a patch of ice and now you’ve got a minefield of comic, sometimes tragic proportions.  Add a slight decline and the magic happens.  Slip-sliding, arms waving, eyes-widening magic.  Caught unprepared, snow on ice let’s you know quickly who’s boss.

      I feed birds.  I don’t feed them in summer, when they have plenty of food.  Mostly because I don’t feed bears.  Do we have bears here?  Maybe.  I’ve seen or heard almost every other kind of wildlife native to this area.  So bears are a possibility.  But in February they stay indoors bing watching Netflix, so I feed birds.  Birds bring motion, color and life to the frozen landscape.

      The bird feeders are on a pole out back where the lawn meets the woods.  I realize having bird feeders close to the house would allow me to see birds close up.  That’s nice.  Mine are farther away.  Out beyond the snow covered ice.  Filling bird feeders back there is like going north of the wall.  You need to be prepared.  Dress for success.  I was dressed.  I felt prepared.  I neglected to wear my micro spikes over my boots.  Turns out I wasn’t prepared.  I wasn’t dressed for success.  And so I brought my own motion, color and life to the frozen landscape.

    • Sand, Snow, Sea and Shells

      Winter brings seclusion to the beach.  After all, who’s really lingering on a beach in January anyway?  Well, I am when the opportunity presents itself.  I’m not a beach person in that I don’t see any point in lying on the sand while the sun cooks your skin.  And yet I’m a beach person in that I love to walk on the beach, especially near the surf, and especially when I may find solitude.  Since I’m not wealthy enough to own a private beach, my options for solitude are early in the morning and in the off-season.  A beach in the Northeast doesn’t get much more off-season than January.

      January beach time brings together seclusion, sand, snow, sea and shells.  If that’s not an attractive alliteration I’m not sure what is.  I seek out solitude because I like to think, and I like to re-charge my batteries through nature and walking.  I welcome the occasional sniff from a dog running free with it’s human.  I take a picture that strikes my fancy.  Sometimes I pick up a shell or driftwood or sea glass.  I try to get my steps in for the day.  And I think.  Being alone with your thoughts seems to be less of a thing nowadays.  People escape into their devices, their TV shows, politics, celebrity gossip or sports.  Some escape into a bottle or religion or drugs or exercise programs.  I’m not interested in escape.  I’m interested in enjoying the ride while I’m on this earth.  Now.  Not deferred to some retirement or vacation in the future.

      Tim Ferriss calls this living the lifestyle of the New Rich.  Time and mobility.  I’ve tried over the last decade to build my career around this NR lifestyle.  While I haven’t pulled off the rich part, I’ve generally lived in such a way that I’ve had the freedom to do what I want to do most of the time.  Generally that means being able to see my kids play sports or attending other milestones in their lives, but sometimes it means taking a walk along a cliff in Portugal, or seeing a sunrise from the easternmost point in Newfoundland, or taking a walk on the beach on Plum Island on a random Tuesday.

      Through Ferriss and Ryan Holiday I’ve found myself reading more stoicism lately.  There are three phrases in Latin that I’m trying to embrace.  Amor fati, or “a love of fate”, Memento mori, or “remember that you have to die” and of course the old standby Carpe Diem, or “seize the day”.  Each day I’m trying to live a complete life.  Some days I accomplish more than in others, and I’m always seeking improvement.  Life, like the sand, shells and snow on a beach, is fleeting and ever-changing.  All we’re guaranteed is now.  So if now is all I’ve got, I might as well walk on a beach in January.