BREAKING UP WITH WINTER

I love snow. I love cold weather, wearing mittens, knitted hats and the sound of the lift as it carries me to the summit. I love it when I have to make fresh tracks on the roads in town early in the morning before the snow plows hit the streets. But after 430” of snow this past winter, I’ll be honest. I need to see other seasons.

See, my dearest Old Man Winter, hear me when I tell you from my heart that it isn’t you, it’s me. I just am not sure you can give me what I need right now. See, I need flowers. Sunshine. Time to be in the yard. Perhaps even wash my car.

And, lately, it’s occurred to me that we just have different interests.

Don’t get me wrong. The time we spent together this past year were some of the best moments of my life. You showered me with powdery gifts for months on end and helped me get full value out of my season ski pass.

But then you kept showing up unexpectedly and teasing me with glimpses of warmer weather and clear skies. You seemed to waffle between your emotions and honestly, you wore me out.

I was grateful for the pause you gave me in the end of April to clear my head and thaw out my cold feet but it’s now May and I’ve met this other season called Spring that I think might be more compatible with my needs right now.

I know this break-up isn’t easy for either of us and I really appreciate you melting your snow off my mountain so that I can move on without constant reminders of our relationship. It’s hard enough just looking at our photos together but when only traces of you are lingering on the trails, it just breaks my heart.

I think this time apart will be good for both of us. You need some time to figure out just where you want to be in this world and I need time to play on the lake, mow the grass, and even have a cold beverage outside without having to be wearing ski clothes.

Who knows, perhaps we can find our way back to each other once again. I know that as much as suntan lotion smells fantastic while I’m lounging on a boat, it just isn’t the same as the smell of ski wax. And it’s true, you always find a way to keep my beer cold. That’s something.

I don’t know, Winter. This is going to be a long couple of months for us both but maybe it’ll only make us stronger. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and I think that might just be the case for us. I always think it’ll be better in another season but the truth is, I end up missing you, the silence of snowfall, the beauty of perfectly groomed runs on a cold Tuesday and feel of flying you give me when you gift me a bluebird powder morning.

Maybe in a few months, I’ll come to my senses and realize I made a mistake. Hopefully you’ll come back to me. You will come back, won’t you?

Article first appeared in the May 2018 issue of "Neighbors," a Bonner County Daily Bee supplement.