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The blur of the fall, winter seasons

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The blur of the fall, winter seasons
Superior Wisconsin 1410 Tower Ave. 54880

I have a difficult time separating fall and winter seasons. Once fall is here, winter thoughts seem to come faster and faster. Maybe it is the wind chill that starts it, or maybe it is when our weak willed wanderers pack up and head south. I call them pansies for leaving this great heart of the Northland just because the white stuff will soon be here.

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Did you take a drive out to your favorite woodland areas to see if the fall colors were up to snuff. We waited a bit too long. It wouldn't be good to forget that, even if some readers are getting forgetful like the writer. But, with the ski hills nearby and lots of ice for skating to look forward too, why would the athletically and emotionally capable still sneak away?

Beautiful isn't it this fall season?

Bud Brand said it more poetically and named it October Wood:

The leaves turned yellow, red and brown,

then slowly fluttered to the ground,

there they danced with the autumn breeze,

and provided a pillow for the sleeping trees.

I like the changing weather patterns. I don't like a run of very hot days or very cold ones. Variety is the spice of life, but I can't remember who said that. I liked what L.M. Montgomery, who wrote Anne of Green Gables, said: "I'm so glad that I live in a world where there are Octobers."

Me too.

Oh, there are some coming tasks that aren't all peaches and cream. Do you have all holes covered or filled, which might let some white stuff into the garage, porch or shed? Are the window scrapers in the car? Is there a snow shovel in the trunk, just in case? The Farmer's Almanac predicts "piercing cold."

Funny isn't it? We moan and groan when winter treats us to deep snow or severe cold and then, in retrospect, we boast and gloat about the very same things. Exaggerate -- you bet -- some of that too.

In closing this winter piece, a poem again by Bud Brand, the poetic wordsmith that I'm lucky enough to call my friend:

Two little snowflakes

fluttered in the air,

and when the wind stopped

they softly settled on the fallen fluff.

Just two little snowflakes

alone in the night

comforting each other

as they shared their final flight.

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