This article originally appeared in The Record-Herald and Indianola Tribune, December 14, 1994. It was a part of the Record-Herald’s “County Line” series, “Insights and thoughts from Warren County residents”.
Like many Iowans, I have occasionally complained about the conspicuous effects of harsh Iowa winters. “It’s too cold!” “It’s too icy!” “There’s so much snow!” “The sun won’t shine!” I have consistently failed to recognize the subtle satisfactions secretly secluded with severe weather’s aftermath.
This winter season I intend to take a new approach to accepting a circumstance over which I have absolutely no control. Whenever I feel the need to damn the consequences of nature’s wrath, I will reflect upon a comment my brother made when I last saw him in June.
Joe lives in San Diego, and, though he prefers the consistent weather of the West Coast; he shares with me that he misses a part of Iowa he will never experience in coastal California. I could vividly envision the scenario of Joe’s recollection of his fondest Iowa memory – a moonlit walk through a quiet, small, rural Iowa town on a calm winter night, hearing only the crunch, crunch, crunch of the thawed and then refrozen snow giving in to the pressure of his weight.
There have been many times when I would tread through crisp snow on a still winter’s night, wondering why the sound of my feet against the fragile surface created such a spiritual aura. Over the past few months I have often considered the pleasant memento of winter that I share with my brother and discovered that there is a message for me in this occurrence.
It is my belief that the shiny, hardened snow is the strong outer appearance that all is well in our lives. The crusty covering giving way to the soft foundation is someone discovering that the true weak infrastructure of subterranean feelings cannot support the façade displayed on the surface.
Changes in our lives usually cause us to feel discomfort, especially during the holiday season. But there is no sense in creating a false demeanor that conflicts with our inner emotions. As seasons change, so must we. Allowing bothersome emotions to emerge and escape from within us gives us the freedom to accomplish things more pleasing to ourselves and others. It permits us to enjoy the season at hand.
This year, as winter doles out its harsh reminders that humans have very little control over numerous matters that affect them daily, and as I trample on the oft-transformed remains of a wintry squall, I will remember a sibling’s yearning and pause to reflect upon the message it sends me. That message has been accurately articulated by neurologist and author Joseph Collins: “By starving emotions we become humorless, rigid and stereotyped; by repressing them we become literal, reformatory and holier-than-thou; encouraged, they perfume life; discouraged, they poison it.”
If I ever leave the harsh Midwestern winters for the sake of climatic consistency, I will recall the best reason I can think of for making a midwinter visit back to Iowa. I, too, would miss that crunch, crunch, crunch and the magical message it remits.
Fawkes-Lee & Ryan wish all our readers, and especially our subscribers, a very peaceful, happy, and memorable holiday season. Marty & Stephanie.