Winter in New England

Any minute now, the snow will begin to fall and it should stop sometime on Tuesday.

Depending on which channel you put your television on, the forecast calls for anywhere from a whole lot to are you kidding me.

Yes, we got more snow in a recent ten day period than an average winter in this area. Yes, the snow banks are so high you risk your life pulling out of the end of every street. Yes, I don't know where we are going to put this next batch of snow.

But, while there is an equal pile of complaining going on, I just sort of laugh because I'm a New Englander.

Winter means snow. Summer means bugs. It is the way of the world.

Sure, I wouldn't mind a week without another foot of snow, but as long as the power stays on and everyone I care about is safe, I'm ok with it.

Yesterday, we strapped on our snowshoes and went for a walk.

Thankfully someone had gone before us and there was a bit of a packed down trail. Whoever these trail blazers were, they had smaller feet than my size thirteens because I was widening the trail with each step.

The air was crisp. The trees had the perfect confectionary sugar covering on them. We were the only ones in the woods and the lone jogger in his blaze orange was too far off to bother us.

A grin was permanently on my face even as my shins screamed at me. Even though I had fallen in the driveway earlier and the thirty pound metal plate in my ruck pressed against the muscle I pulled earlier I kept grinning.

I was outside. I was making the most of this winter. I was happy.

When spring arrives I'll smile. I'll welcome her, the rain and the new flowers. I'll look at my lawn and smile as it needs it's first mowing.

Every day you are not sick and able to get out of bed is a good day in my book.

The sun has set and I can't tell if the snow has began or not. Tomorrow will be white, mixed with the flashing yellow of the snowplows.

Winter in New England.

Bring it.