27 December, 2008

The Winters of My Childhood

The winters of my early childhood were spent in Caracas, Grenada, and Paulo Alto, California. Places where winter is not winter, but dry seasons, or they are so moderate that you wouldn’t dare call them winters.

winter birches

The winters of my late childhood were spent in and around Montreal. Cold and snowy winters with long luxurious frozen landscapes to walk or ski or toboggan through. Cold breath. Frostbite cheeks. Icicles hanging down from house roofs. Late afternoon, playing down on the lake, when I’d want to cry; for my mittens were soaked and snow had gotten into my boots. I was so cold and tired and so far away from home.

That is so long ago. We do not really have a winter here in Luebeck. We just have damp, dark, dismal months to contend with. I don’t want to complain, for admittedly, the sun shone today, and what a joy that was. Still, I still can spend a moment thinking of those Real Winters that blessedly left behind many wonderful memories.

2 comments:

  1. Anonymous10:07 pm

    You certainly have lived in many different places. I'm surprised that you miss a real winter, I suppose that the brightness of snow is so much more pleasant than dark rainy days. Such is the case in Vancouver so we've been delighted to have a rare white Christmas. Not so nice when the rains come on top though.

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  2. Anonymous2:40 am

    As a follow-up to your post on CK's blog, you seem to be going through some sort of searching. I'm not sure if that's what brought me to her blog (my own searching), or the interesting comments and people who make them. Currently I'm searching for "my place in the world." With your awareness of different places and the feelings you've had when you've been in them, why wouldn't you go to one where you have that sense of peace. As I write this I realize this is a very personal question. It's one that "I" don't need an answer. Maybe I'm asking it for you. Thank you for sharing. P

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