It ain’t spring, folks.
Though most of the snow has melted in our yard and garden and we can actually get to our car on the street without having to walk down to the corner and then wrap back toward the house, it’s still only 24º out there. Snowflakes were falling a minute ago.
And while most of our friends and acquaintances have, at some point in the last few months, jetted south, toward heat and sunlight and the hope of summer, we headed north this weekend. Three and a half hours north, 10 degrees colder.
Our motto: To endure winter, burrow deeper.
I remember Heather telling us, with all the force of Robert Olen Butler behind her, to go to our white-hot center and write from there. Don’t look away. Don’t avert your eyes. Keep looking, staring, peering deeper into the parts of you that need to be told but want to hide. Don’t let them hide. Face them. Follow them into their hiding places. Follow them to your white hot center.
I say: Do the same for winter. Go to the white (cold) center. Pursue that center with everything you’ve got. Don’t look away. Don’t escape to warmer climes. Dive right into this snow, this cold, this wind. It has something to tell you. It’s not done yet.
Let’s go there, Michiganders, to our cold white centers and not avert our eyes. Brace yourself and face the cold. Don’t flinch.
I can’t decide if that’s poetic wisdom or if our trip to frigid Petoskey was good just because it made Holland, at 24º, seem a heck of a lot warmer. But I’m embracing winter. At least until April 1. Then all bets are off.