As I drove home from work yesterday afternoon I could hardly believe that I had just turned the calendar over two days ago and read “March”. I wondered how it could possibly be March already; it certainly didn’t feel like March. Winter here in the Northwoods can seem so long at times, even though each day and month seem to go by so fast. Many of you might be wondering where that little furry groundhog has gone after promising us spring. I have learned many moons ago not to trust this villain, after he sneaked into my garden to eat my pea vines and chew holes in my melons. I can only hope that after his latest crimes, his mug gets posted across the country as one of America’s most wanted.
The car thermometer struggled to hit zero Sunday afternoon as I meandered my way through the curvy roads of Voyager Village. As I crossed the culvert at Culbertson Creek I looked to the West and saw that it was totally frozen over. In January I wouldn’t bat an eye, in February I might believe it, but in March? I’m not sure why at that moment I decided to take a closer look at the creek but I did; maybe I was intoxicated from the sunshine that was flittering through the window of the car that has eluded me for nearly a month.
As I peered to the East side of the creek I was shocked by the beauty that the winter had created. Water was running to be free from the shackles of the ice and snow that tried to choke out its existence. Already so much of the creek has succumbed to a silent, still fate, but yet it fought back at every turn and was aided by the day’s sun. As sunlight hit the water, a steady cloud of evaporation rose from the creek’s surface in a truly epic battle of Goliaths. I was also shocked to learn that the creek had recruited other friends to its side; six ducks that swam to the last signs of freedom from the villain that wore a white, winter mask.
As I plowed through this masked villain myself, I was reminded that even though my heart pounded to fight off the millions of stinging minions attacking my legs, it had backup from wind wielding an icy sword that slashed at my face. This assault is felt by all others that dare to enter winter’s arena, and I wish them well. I encourage all of you to give a helping hand to these brave challengers when you can.