I can still remember that day. If you asked me, I thought the world was coming to a bitter cold end. Well, at least my world. It was a very humid and hot summer afternoon when I left West Palm Beach for Marquette. Not unusual for February in south Florida. It was quite a coincidence actually; since this was the type of severe winter weather I should have to been used to since growing up in North Dakota. After all here I was on my way to work in Munising. In February. During a record-breaking blizzard. And now, I’m in Ironwood watching both the snow and temperature drop while I type.
It was a mere two months ago when I told my friends and family I would be returning to Ironwood for the worst winter months. At first, some of them didn’t believe me. I admit to thinking, “What kind of sick joke is this God?” But, after a few days everyone realized I was serious.
Joke, or God’s perfect plan, I’m delighting in seeing how the snow is totally covering all the dirt and grime and making everything untainted and white. The landscape is utterly breathtaking, transformed and even thrilling. Those who live in southern Florida probably have little idea of what I am describing, but I hope that you try. (Head over to the notoriously cold Town Center Mall without a jacket)
Snow seldom falls in Florida. The mean temperature of Orlando in the winter time is 60 degrees Fahrenheit, thus they should never see snow. However, snow occasionally does come to the “Happiest Place on Earth” when the temperature drops low enough. Everything in the south stops when a flake drops slowly from the sky. Not so much in the Upper Peninsula.
This winter, I get the chance to watch the snow when it falls and blankets the ground and streets. I mean REALLY see the snow, up close and personal. And I’m going to try to remember to give thanks for this wonderful gift of winter bringing sub-zero temperatures and icy winds along with it. The dark, frigid days make it tough to stay positive as I curl up on the couch watching rental movies.
So please, let me encourage you that even in our most stressful moments, a fresh, fluffy snowfall maintains an almost supernatural power to calm us down — mind, body and soul. It’s magical.