People have asked me what I think the meaning of Christmas is. It’s a difficult question because I don’t believe I have the right to answer for anyone but myself, and everyone has their idea of Christmas.

I can only speak for myself. I like the idea of Christmas as a time to think of others; I can always shop online another time.

I embrace Christ’s notion of caring for the needy, the lost, and the vulnerable. That speaks to my heart more powerfully than anything else. But it also means love and connection.

When I thought of Christmas today, I thought of this photo of Maria and her friend Asher the sheep. I took the picture the other day; I wanted to wait until today to post it.

I find my photos of Maria and our animals the most inspirational and essential pictures. They teach me so much and touch my heart and soul.

I love Maria, as is obvious, but I also respect and admire her, which is harder to describe.

I have learned to pay attention to how dogs and other animals react to people because no human I know can read people as well as dogs and donkeys and sheep can.

Of course, this isn’t intellect; it’s instinct. The lives of animals often depend on how well they read the intentions of humans, who are the animal world’s most ruthless and lethal predators.

When I look at this photo, I see the trust Maria inspires in animals, the way she can talk to them and listen to them, and the way they trust and listen to her. I think that’s what Christmas means to me today.

This morning, we left our Vermont inn amid a nerve-racking and dangerous ice storm; it took about three hours for us to navigate a 90-minute trip. It turned out to be a frightening adventure at times and pretty dumb.

It is very easy for a car to slide off dirt roads or steep hills, especially when a couple of inches of ice are firm on the ground.

When we woke up, our car was coated in ice, and so were the roads. Plows had not come to our country road, and we debated staying one more night at our inn, but we wanted to get back to visit our friends at the Mansion who have no one calling them on Christmas.

We should have stayed another day; the Green Mountains are no place to drive in an ice storm that spouted all kinds of warnings and alarms, which most people had the good sense to heed. We hardly saw any cars on the road. It took us a half-hour to chip enough ice off of the front and wear windows to drive.

I got all-year snow tires recently and was grateful for them. I love living in the country, but I fear ice storms more than almost anything. I’ve had a bunch of concussions to show for them, even without driving.

We didn’t make it back on time, but we did make it safely, and going over those mountains in an ice storm was an adventure.

We went about 20 miles an hour most of the way, pulled over for the very few trucks and macho drivers, behind us and stayed very quiet so as not to distract Maria, who did the driving.

I spent a lot of the time gripping the door handle, and I figured this might be an excellent chance to stop and take some lovely photos. I know from experience that ice storms make for good photos. Maria is a very good ice storm driver, cautious, alert, and calm. I didn’t want to even think about sliding into these ravines and down those hills.

I did stop two or three times to take some photos of the feeling of the ice storm and the mist it generated; I might as well be creative.

I’m going to put those up shortly; I’m happy with them.

Whenever I go to this inn with Maria – we honeymooned there ten years ago, and we go almost every Christmas Eve, the only time we can afford it  – I take a photo of George Washington hanging on one wall; I don’t know why, it’s just a habit I got into.

 

I’m fond of George Washington. He was no genius, no orator, no visionary; his charisma came much more from his height and looked than his character, but when I think of the sorry state of our politics right now, I admire him all the more. He was not perfect or flashy and failed to make some crucial moral decisions in his life.

But he was a leader, and he saved our democracy and understood its promise, and  I wish he were still around. Thanks, George, come back if you can.

Anyway, we are home and glad to be home. I’m doing an Ice Storm In The Mist post soon. I hope we can get over the Mansion. The ice storm hit our town but was not nearly as intense. I learned a lesson today. Don’t drive through an ice storm if I can help it.