Worrying for Winter

Winter, I worry for you! Increasingly, winters are shorter than ever and warmer than ever, or feel like a perpetual fall as in this past season. For me, this seeming reality is one of the saddest consequences of climate change. (Yes, I genuinely love winter.)

During a recent church event, an ice-breaker had everyone move into the four corners of the fellowship hall based on their favorite season. I strode toward the winter corner, surprised to find just one other person there while other corners had 20 or more. She admitted that she chose winter because, as a teacher, she loves snow days (no school). Newsflash: this is not actually a winter person. Only one other church member I knew of would have sincerely joined me in the winter corner, but he did not attend the event. I was the only winter person.

I have watched as multiple decades have amended the look and feel of winter. When I attended college in Blacksburg, it was seriously frigid. (Back then, it was called “Bleaksburg” for a reason.) In the winter, the Drill Field held multiple mounds of ice and snow for weeks and weeks. The Duck Pond froze so hard we could ice skate on it. The season brought feet of snow rather than inches. Virginia Tech’s students of yesteryear were built of sturdy stuff to make it through classes, studios, and labs in addition to weathering the severe winter conditions. These days, the students experience none of this! This is my own example of what is, as we all know, widespread. Increasingly, Michigan feels like Virginia. Virginia feels like South Carolina. South Carolina feels like Florida. Florida feels closer than ever to the equator.

In his 1972 movie “Winter People,” famous ski film-maker Warren Miller spoke passionately about the special frame-of-mind shared by folks like me. Of course, I am a skier, so his message touched my heart. I love turtlenecks, coats, scarves, gloves, earmuffs (hardly need any of these). Even more, I love the crisp air and clear skies (still have these bluebird days). Most of all, I love snow and snowflakes (these are nearly non-existent).

As I bemoan the loss of winter due to being-driven global warming, I offer enthusiastic praise and sincere gratitude to all those within our profession and industry – and others far beyond – who are working diligently to reduce carbon emissions. I remain hopeful in their efforts, and in the comforting words of a Zen saying, “No snowflake ever falls in the wrong place.” Ah, if the tears we shed could become snowflakes …

Photo Note: Warren, Helene, Joanna, and Marshall at Lake Mondsee, Austria