Day: January 12, 2011

“For I believe that climate does thus react on man, – as there is something in the mountain air that  feeds the spirit and inspires.”

– Henry David Thoreau

Maria brushes off the donkeys in their stall, where they will probably spend the night. We bring them in where there is a combination of wind, cold and ice or snow. Dry them out.

One of the many things I love about farms is that they have a life or rythym of their own, and they done care about snow or rain. The animals (cows, sheep, horses) need the same care on a sunny day as on a wintry one. Sometimes more, sometimes less. The wind is blowing hard, the snow is icy, the temperatures are low, so we decided to bring the donkeys into the barn for awhile. They agreed, happily going inside.

There are bad and destructive storms, and people can suffer in them. But the media machine has seized on snowstorms, along with so many other things, to transform the very idea of a storm into something frightening, something to run from, prepare for and be afraid of. And to make money sounding alarms out. I have decided not to do that.

How sad that these awesomely beautiful experiences have become yet another lubricant in the fear engine which takes up so much of our time, energy, choices and lives.

When people refer to snowstorms, it is invariably as a means of lament and complaint. It’s a personal choices. Storms cost money, disrupt work, sometimes electricity, food and water.

Thoreau wrote that storms were visits from God, the purest and most awesomely beautiful visitations in his experience. He walked in them, sat outside in them, meditated in them, on the nature and struggles and beauty of life. I am working to do the same. Our minds are filled with choices and we train ourselves – and are taught – to fear the way the world works. We expect people and the animals we love to live forever, and yet I learned in hospice work that death can be beautiful, uplifting and filled with love and warmth.

This afternoon, I will walk with Maria and the dogs, take photos, wait for Chris Barrett to come by and take a second swipe at the mounds of snow engulfing the farm. I hope I can capture just a taste of the beauty and power of it.

Frieda has no problems with snow.

Frieda loves the snow, pulls out trees and grabs the other dogs by the head (sort of playfully). This is turning out to be a wondrous storm. The wind is soothing and foreboding and there is a lot of snow. I’m going to take a walk soon, with one of the dogs, perhaps Lenore, as she is best suited for the blowing and bitter cold.