The temperature is frigid here in Minnesota this week. Today, I woke up to -15°F outside, with even colder wind chills. It’s one of those weeks when the sun is so bright you need sunglasses to drive, but it’s so cold you can barely make it out to the mailbox without your face freezing.
Yesterday, the groundhog predicted six more weeks of winter. To a Minnesotan, this sounds like an early spring! I know all too well that winter lasts fully through March, often dubbed the snowiest month.
We’re in the bleak midwinter. The air in the house is stale and the humidifier is working at full tilt. I feel sluggish. Stuck. Unmotivated to leave the house except for what is absolutely necessary—groceries, and bringing the kids to and from school. The mail can wait until the thaw in a few days.
Despite my inertia, a couple weekends ago I managed to get out for a frosty morning walk in the woods near my house. My breath billowed around me, icing my hair as I tromped up and down snowy paths. It was good for my body and good for my soul. The skies were gray, but the bright snow lifted my heart anyway.
I remembered last winter, on a similarly cold morning, when I braced myself against the cold to take my kids to daycare. And something in the sky took my breath away. I wrote a poem about it then, and revised it again this morning. Poems can spin and change over time, so this might not be its final version either. Poems never feel done, but since I’m rebelling against perfectionism, I’m going to share it with you anyway. Maybe you too, are feeling the weight of winter. Longing for green things, your senses dulled from too much time indoors. If so, this is for you:
Winter Blues The doldrums of winter stifle your joy. Your whole body drags slow. You ache for spring, for green things, light, and warmth. Move, dear heart. Move. You resist, clinging to comfort, staring wistfully out the window. Daring to leave stale air behind, you emerge from your nest, breathing clouds of frost. The brittle, breaking snow crunches sharply beneath your tentative feet. And then, you look up— face turned to a brilliance against the intrepid blue. The spectacular sun, ringed by a halo of ice crystals, an angel with rainbow wings. It’s just you. Your ragged breath. And the wonder of winter. © 2023 Naomi Krueger
A halo is an optical phenomenon produced by light interacting with ice crystals suspended in the atmosphere. Sometimes, it’s simply a circle. Other times it’s a sun dog, which looks like little rainbows flanking the sun. On this particular morning, the sun was putting on a complex halo display, with a halo circling the sun, flanked by sun dogs and sun pillars. I saw it again from the freeway with a much less obstructed view. It was spectacular. I’ll never forget it. Definitely worth going outside for the chance of seeing that glory again.
And even if no ice crystal angels are there to greet me, the frosty air is still worth enduring for fresh air and rejuvenation. I just need to keep reminding myself of that.
Move, dear heart. Move.
—NK
Very nice! Yes, you have to get out and enjoy winter. Everyday there is something new. I live in the country so the deer come, some days the turkeys and everyday there are birds coming and going. The snow is beautiful. I love all the little animal tracks. Keep up your writing!❤️
You write exquisitely, Naomi. I am always happy to see something new from you in my inbox. Enjoy the relatively warm week ahead. 🌞