FORT KENT, Maine — Can snow make you a happier person?
The folks at Huffington Post sure think so, and in a recent online article, “ 8 Ways Snow Makes You a Happier Person,” they outline exactly how it can, and should, brighten all of our lives.
Now, I like to think of myself as a glass-half-full kind of gal, but right about now, as those of us here in the far north sit in the midst of yet another spell of sub-zero temperatures and contemplate the potential of a weekend nor’easter, I have to say — all the article did was give me eight reasons to be annoyed.
According to the article, “once a beautiful bout of snow is added to this wintry mix, we often find our feelings of bitterness transform into ones of pure, unadulterated joy. It seems to wipe the slate of our world clean, rejuvenating our personal perspectives at the same time.”
Right.
Snow, according to the article, “inspires our sense of wonder.”
Well, I suppose it does. Every time I hear of a major snowstorm on the way, or wake up to find that a foot or so of the white stuff fell over night, I am, indeed, filled with wonder.
As in, I wonder if there is enough diesel fuel in the tractor, I wonder where I left the shovel, I wonder if it’s time to get the roof shoveled.
Snow, the Huffington Post says, gives off “relaxing vibes,” and “even in our most stressful moments, a fresh snowfall maintains an almost supernatural power to calm us down — mind, body and soul.”
Sure it does. There is nothing quite as relaxing as being halfway done with snowblowing the driveway, looking behind the tractor and realizing the snowblower has become partially disconnected thanks to a pin falling out.
Snow links us to childhood memories.
That could be. We did not get huge snowstorms back in Portland, Oregon, when I was growing up. But I do have memories of ice storms and learning some of my best cuss words watching my dad putting the tire chains on the car.
Snow gives us fun games and treats.
I have survived 34.5 Maine winters and never, at any time, has “snow” knocked on my door with any treat or invitation to join in a game.
It has, however, opened the door here on Rusty Metal Farm to some fun projects that were undertaken to show the rest of the world exactly how cold it is up here.
Over the years, I’ve tossed boiling coffee into sub-zero air to watch it freeze into ice crystals, held a wet shirt for a few minutes until it is straight and hard as a board and, most recently, blown soap bubbles to watch them drift off and freeze into abstract patterns.
Those tricks are way more fun than the games I play with the Rusty Metal Tractor when the temperatures dip low enough to gel the diesel that fuels the beast.
Then we play some hearty rounds of “How many blankets and heaters will it take to ungel the fuel and get the tractor moving again?”
It is during such times that those long ago learned cuss words do come in a bit handy.
Snow brings us into the present moment.
With that I cannot argue. Nothing says “here and now” when you’d rather crawl back into bed and avoid the day or a deck in need of shoveling.
“There’s nothing like being the first to leave footprints in a fresh layer of snow to connect you with your surroundings. Taking a deep breath of the cool air…,” the article says.
What’s super fun is when making those footprints out, say to the garage, you sink up to your knees. As for that first, deep breath of cool air? Man, I do love it when it glues all my nose hairs together and sends my lungs into frozen spasms.
It brings people together.
Again, can’t argue with that one. Nor can anyone else who’s been stuck at a diner or truckstop just off an exit ramp, waiting for the state plows to come through and clear the road home.
Who among us in Maine has not made new friends this way as we sit clustered around mugs of coffee, avoiding eye contact as the supply of fresh-baked whoopie pies and cookies in the pastry case starts to dwindle.
It reminds us of the beauty of nature.
OK, so even the winter-jaded cynic in me can’t find fault with this one.
I agree, there is really nothing like the sight of a fresh snowfall against a blue Maine sky. Walking in the woods on days like that is a true vacation from the workaday stress of daily life.
And, in those times when I walk a bit too close to nature’s snowy bounty and a large mound of it falls from a branch directly down my back, I remember the eighth and final reason snow should make us happy: Its time is limited.
With the first day of spring now only 55 days away, all I can say is hallelujah and Amen to that.
Julia Bayly of Fort Kent is an award winning writer and photographer, who writes part time for Bangor Daily News. Her column appears here every other Friday. She can be reached by e-mail at jbayly@bangordailynews.com.
