COLD DAYS
Backwoods Blog;
in the woods and on the road…
“rock show” (photo by Dave)
The thermometer hit minus 16 last night (our coldest temp thus far) as January winds down for this year. This prompted me to dig into my files and see what I might have jotted down from previous winters applicable to days as cold as this. I came across a minister’s column written in the winter of 2017, and the accompanying photograph that appears in today’s blog. The rocks all come from the north branch of the Meduxnekeag River collected from the stretch of water in front of our cabin. I find great pleasure arranging the stones in various combinations as a meditative practice. Several years ago I brought in part of my collection and presented a “rock show” at the Unitarian Society as part of a service. You will see the additional “outtakes” that were not used in the original minister’s column included below. It’s also interesting (although I hadn’t noted it at the time), that the Thoreau journal entry I used and the date of the January 2017 minister’s column were an even 160 years apart. Either way, both dates were damn cold…
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Alone in distant woods or fields, I once more feel myself grandly related, and that cold and solitude are friends of mine. I come to my solitary woodland walk as the homesick go home. I thus dispose of the superfluous and see things as they are grand and beautiful…I wish to get the Concord, the Massachusetts, the America, out of my head and be sane a part of every day. I come out to these solitudes, where the problem of existence is simplified. I get a mile or two from the town into the stillness and solitude of nature, with rocks, trees, weeds, and snow about me. I enter some glade in the woods, perchance, where a few weeds and dry leaves alone lift themselves above the surface of the snow, and it is as if I had come to an open window. I am aware that most of my neighbors would think it a hardship to be compelled to linger here one hour, especially this bleak day, and yet I receive this sweet and ineffable compensation for it.
– Journal of Henry David Thoreau; Jan 7, 1857
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As the thermometer starts to drop, the clear cold air gets your attention and informs you that the easy days are gone and colder days lay ahead. When you live in northern New England, even when you know the routine, it doesn’t necessarily make it any easier. You have to gear up mentally and physically for the long haul if you’re going to make it to mud season. Nature and the weather cannot be ignored when you live in a frigid environment five months out of the year. Thoreau called the cold a friend of his as it provided ample opportunities for reflection, interaction with the elements and a welcome break from the noise and commotion of society. Whether I’m carrying wood for the wood stove, shoveling snow or walking on the trail, each of these activities keep me in touch with the cold realities of the day and my own basic sanity. Ten minutes spent sitting in front of the wood stove enjoying a hot cup of coffee is ten minutes spent in the simplicity of existence.
The river is open today and it is flowing cold downstream, ice forming in places along the edge, slushy globs of partially frozen river riding on the surface. Patches of the slush globs float freely in the middle of the stream, but along the river bank they catch and slide along the edge of the ice creating this amazing sound…it sounds like a giant slushy machine! Standing in the cold and listening to the slushy sound of nature has a calming effect on the scattered mind and modern soul. Go ahead and embrace the elements in this cold season.
In the woods,
Dave
January 31, 2024
rock show .2
rock show .3
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rock show .5
Nice rocks, beautifully arranged. I have to agree with you and Thoreau. There is something wonderful about being out in the cold, more wonderful, I think, than being out in the summer. Maybe it is the thrill of simply surviving in the Northern Winter. In South Portland now and for a couple more months, with the condo association taking care of shoveling and with only a kerosene heater, I do not have to shovel or split wood….and I miss it. So, I go out and shovel places the crew doesn’t do: the deck, a path to the communal mailbox, the areas where we all put out our weekly trash and recycling barrels. Just to be productive out in the cold.
An interesting read and nice stone arrangements.
Cold and stones take me back to my boyhood days in Northern Newfoundland.
I remember walking home from school and my hands would be frozen, even though I was wearing warm woolen cuffs. As soon as I arrived home my dad would take my cold hands and rub them in his hair. They would get warm very quickly.
Precious memories of yesteryear.
posted by Les Bussey