Hi, Folks!
A lot of folks currently yearn for the return of summers warm temperatures, but I for one enjoy both the solitude and togetherness of winter. Besides possessing man’s instinctive survival skills, a certain satisfaction comes with witnessing the arrival of spring after Mother Nature has hurled her worst at my family and I.
There will never be a southbound migration seeking warmer locales for me. Like the Sioux Indian Chief Ten Bears in “Dances with Wolves”, I understand the value of a warm fire and I bask in the glow of my loved ones warmth.
I will be the first to say that I thoroughly enjoy getting out during a snowstorm. By that, I don’t mean in all of the reckless congestion that urban areas seem to offer. I mean the backroads of the Appalachian landscape, my native Madison County, North Carolina in particular.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s not the adventure I seek, although that is certainly part of the attraction. It’s the fond and romantic remembrances of times past which I seek.
You see, I am of the opinion that advancing years and snowstorms are God’s way of making one slow down. Stop and smell the roses that have long faded but still remain vivid in the mind.
I miss the best of Appalachia past. I seek her out every chance I get, winter included.
When it’s just me and my camera, all of the above mentioned factors come to life.
The snow under my tires and boots softly creak in protest, much like my middle aged bones or the sagging timbers of a long forgotten barn or log cabin.
My Canon records the soundless snowfall, capturing present day scenes with vivid precision but void of past lives. Meanwhile, my mind sees an overlay of priceless black & white Polaroids, more worthy than any Dutch Master collection.
Snowflakes softly sting my cheeks in recognition of a forlorn culture, like bittersweet tears frozen in time. However, faces from seasons past warm my heart against the cold winter chill.
They whisper with the wind, calling me onward into the snowfalls dense veil. The peace of familiarity offers nourishment for the journey.
They are God’s gifts of winter.
Into this veil is where I must travel, an undisputed destiny for all. The best I can hope for is to be a priceless black & white Polaroid or warm fire in someone’s heart during winters I will never see.
One of God’s gifts of winter.
‘A pictures worth an thousand words
But you can’t see what those shade of gray keep covered
You should’ve seen it in color’ – In Color by Jamey Johnson
