First Snow

Meditations on when it snows early in the season.

A couple of mornings ago, I jolted awake around four. The first snow of the season had made itself a problem on the other side of the street where that Famous Chicago Wind had blown it. The tenacious snow warrior in his green neon vest on the other side of the street was painting the tan retaining wall white as he forged a path through what was probably three inches. I’ve never had to shovel, which is probably why I’m enjoying all of this so much. It’s at this time of the year when I trade my fairy fantasies for the images of Hollypond Hill. Anthropomorphic rabbits in house dresses with hard and fast opinions on tea… my particular vision of loveliness. Though Let’s Have Tea Together (the book in which I met them) covers all four seasons I’m particularly interested in winter. Earl grey steeped over a fire, bunny feet in figure skates, perhaps if I’m lucky that will be my next life.

Of course, the first snow of the season calls our attention to Gilmore Girls as well. My nervous system was on high alert when I flew awake at four, but finding no great reason for such a fly-awake (probably the great amounts of sugar consumed last night on one of the loveliest nights of the year yet), my brain fortunately bowed to my mystical powers of media association and my body dragged itself to the back door to throw it wide and see if snow really is something I could smell and predict, like Lorelai.

Let’s talk about a couple of nights ago because it’s one of those things that only happens on times like the eve of the first good snow of the season. I sat around the table with my roommates and ate soup in the dying light and planned the date we’re going to get our (live) Christmas tree. Jim turned on the Charlie Brown Christmas record. Carly and Jacob got cinnamon hot chocolate, which is probably my favorite invention on this earth. I am touched softly on either cheek by the auspiciousness of another winter.

Snow covering old buildings makes me think of wizards in secret conversations behind the frosted glass. There is a pulling-in in winter where I put down my restless summertime need to do yoga on top of a mountain and I cozy up and I settle into a comfortable sweater for a while. Mountain yoga will come but winter must come first.

In the interest of creating a lovely wintery mood for those of you who I know are not pleased about this (a break room conversation at work yesterday taught me all I need to know about converging and diverging feelings on snow), I have contrived a brief playlist and media recommendation which I hope will convince you of the merits of pulling out your largest and in chargest puffer coat.

• A Charlie Brown Christmas, 1965

• Let’s Have Tea Together: Recipes and Celebrations for Every Season by Susan Wheeler

• Making paper chains in the company of friends

• Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 10 - “The Bracebridge Dinner”

• Having a tea party with a board game or other such unifying element

• a-sides by Adrianne Lenker & Buck Meek

• Colorful scarves, colorful mittens, etc, I don’t really care if they match but if you do you can throw your efforts that way

• “Long Way Home” by Tom Waits

• Walking in the evenings anyway with your friends - we still can and no one can stop us

• Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

I’ve been fortunate enough to spend an incredibly joyous weekend with my dear friends preceding the snow, and I am in a season of feeling very fortunate. I do not mean to diminish the seasonal difficulties that many experience without fail at the changing of the seasons. I am wearing my own heavy coats of wintertime too. But we cannot fall over and resign ourselves to a miserable cold season. We must try to put mittens on each other’s hands and remain colorful.

To a joyful hibernation!