Untitled - RM

  

The winter storm came through like a frozen sirocco, laying down nature with its blustery, cold wind and freezing rain.  To be outside on a furious night like that would be injurious, if not ruinous.  We had left our hockey sticks and gloves on the front lawn, now covered by an unhinged thousand pine needles, small twigs and sizeable branches.  Our frozen hockey sticks were no less better-off than the fallen branches.  We could hear the tree branches moan all night, as we were happy to be safely snug in our dry beds, hoping and praying that the roof would not fall in on us. Weather-worn and rattled, the stoic pine tree, with dripping tears of sap, once again stood strongly.  The storm had passed.  Now was the time for clean-up and a reassessment of the domicile and property.  My Mom stayed inside the house, preparing some hot soup and sandwiches for when we finished our collective work.  My Mom was awesome like that. 

   My Dad would often rally the family forces for a concerted and efficient yard clean-up.

My pugnacious brother, always the clown, gave me the business with an ice-frozen hockey glove, right in the kisser.  In retaliation, I threw him to the frozen, snow-covered ground, much to his displeasure.  To this day, we will grapple until one of us dies.  The snowy front lawn was strewn with tattered twigs, broken branches, and the detritus of a damaged Dogwood tree nearby.  The hockey gloves were as cold as ice and may take weeks to dry.  It was bitter cold, nearly inhospitable.  As we picked up scored of branches and twigs around the yard, our hands were getting cold, and our dogs were barking. (Our feet were cold)  Our family dog, McKinley, frolicked with us in the snow, sometimes treacherously underfoot.  Snow angels were not an option at this time.  Our dog just wanted to have fun.

   The fallen branches, once thawed out in our wood shed, would, in days and weeks to come, delight us in bringing satisfying sustenance to our fireplace, and, in turn, to our winter-chilled frames. 

   This winter storm even frightened the local raccoons, and possums, and rabbits, and squirrels, and birds.  Even the fiercest animals in the region, the bears, and coyotes, and sturdy deer all ran inside to tell the others not to go out in this hellish weather. Even the werewolves, which my neighbor said prowled the neighborhood, stayed home.

   It was Mother Nature telling us all who is the boss, and man and animal understood fully.  The winter’s icy snow and wind prune the trees and shrubs yearly of their weaker limbs.  This natural process gives us firewood and plenty of good reason to be thankful for the sturdy roof over our pretty little heads.

 

Richard Melnick

March 3, 2024.