November 17 looms like D-Day to General Eisenhower during the weeks before the Normandy Invasion. Its outcome will shape an unfinished sculpture within me, and the world will evolve in a new way. Eisenhower’s anticipation of victory would shape all humanity for good, or his failure would turn unimaginably foul. My outcome in northern Minnesota this winter will change everything I say in this blog, or the venture will have failed.
Ike had an objective and a plan. I have only a longing for something not known and a simple uncluttered plan for finding it. I will say, in future posts, contradictions to what I am saying now, and if this very statement is contradicted upon my return, then the venture will have failed.
When I fly north to the border town of International Falls, Minnesota, it will be a leaving behind of friends as I love them, the bicycle as my vehicle, and everything warm and cozy about Southern California. I will take on the discomfort and necessity of mornings in the minus thirties and days perhaps in positive Fahrenheit, simply because I have never done this, and think it will be inspiring.
I want to watch the border between us and Canada as it freezes so solid that fisherman have to drill through two feet of ice just to drop their lines, and cars can drive on its watery depths between countries. I want to dress thickly and walk in snow shoes or skis among trees, meeting creatures of the ice. I will feel the warmth of cafes and bars devoid of summer tourists, surviving on conversations of locals as they ride their laurels through the long winter. And, crossing the bridge into Canada, I want their stories also, to compare, edit, write and ponder the exceeding cold and loneliness of border songs, bird songs, and the Aurora Borealis. This is what I expect, and hope that I am wrong. For in being wrong, I will change and find childish newness.
Winter's Child
Sharon Hawley Flies North for the Winter
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
There's still plane seats available to Key West...
ReplyDeleteYou are funny, Steven, and I wish I could be in Sierra Madre tonight to see just how. Thanks for the tip.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to the Aurora Borealis singing through your posts.
ReplyDeleteYour description is arresting. The lure of your to be visited-cold, snow sculpted places already entices...i feel like cupping hot chocolate in my hands.
Thanks Susan, it entices me too, and I hope to actually see the Aurora, illusive as it can be.
ReplyDeleteThe aurora has become more elusive thanks to global warming. The colder it is, and the further north you travel, the better your chances for a sighting.
ReplyDeleteYou elude me, fair Steven, with global logic, an illusion that englobes the sun whose warming spots have diminished in recent months, reducing the sightings. I hope to follow Aurora forecasts at http://www.spacew.com/ and avoid too many midnight frozen cheeks for no avail.
ReplyDeleteMay I interrupt your global logic to say that I will miss you, we all will, and you are taking a great risk that we will all go astray while you are gone, you must always be a little wary when you return from your carefree jaunts (a bear somewhere is giggling) for who knows what I have had to do to compensate for the loss of your possibilistic eye. Well, while you are thickly layered watching the colored sky, we'll be shivering here in California, improperly dressed, in unheated houses, since we don't believe in Winter, so remember, if you are lonely, and want to experience the cold, come home! Really, though, of course I am fascinated by your obstinate adventurism, and look forward to hearing and sharing where this leads, as always. Please give us a little preview of your expedition at our Salon before you leave, and we look forward to your program on return. And thank you for thinking of us, the friends you love, we love you too.
ReplyDeleteI no want you go there thats too dangrious, I no want see you in trouble, because we all love you. why u need to talk with animals u already talk with me every day?
ReplyDeleteRegards, love and peace.
Rashad.
Chairman: Hope development organization.
Email: chairman@hopedevelopment.org
www.hopedevelopment.org
Thanks Kath for thinking I will be missed and you will be cold. I will think of both while skiing piny woods at minus twenty or while sitting alone inside when it’s too cold to go out, wondering why the loner left the lover this time. There is a reason, I assure you, else why the trouble. I want to be more like a self-navigating robot, assessing each step-length ahead, re-evaluating the course as I go, re-inventing the future.
ReplyDeleteRashad, I want go there and talk with you every day on computer. I go two thousand miles closer to you and two hours less in time. But you no compete with Canadian goose. I need talk with animals too.
For extra conditioning in the days leading up to this excursion, I'd recommend lingering in the frozen foods section at Trader Joe's while nibbling on green tea mochi ice creams dressed in your skimpy things.
ReplyDeleteAs kids we used to sit in a circle, and on cue each of us placed an ice cube on our forehead and held it there, motionless, looking at each other. The one who did not give in the headache as it soaked deeper and deeper into the brain, and held the ice there the longest was the undisputed winner. I remember the pain, consciousness fading, and the sheer determination to beat Shirley and Jerry Dawson.
ReplyDeleteYour suggestion by comparison is quite lovely. Look for a yellow polka-dot bikini in the frozen food section, and a brown bag over her head.
If that is not an arresting image, I do not know what one is. A yellow polka dot bikini in the frozen food section at Trader Joes with a brown bag over her head. (at trader joes there would also be the choice of the environmental white recycled material bag)
ReplyDeleteEither way, i will bring my camera. Just tell me when.
Enough of this theoretical mumbo jumbo about what winter is going to be like -- lets get on with the show... I look forward to cold winter nights and beautiful shiny snowy days. The majesty of winter will be upon us before we know it, and I know Sharon will be as elegant as ever with words on a page, as she always is... I look forward to her unique perspective on life.
ReplyDeleteSusan, I prefer that you leave your camera home. Preparing for a winter is embarrassing enough without pictures.
ReplyDeleteSorry Michael, but theoretical mumbo jumbo is all I know about real winter. An Eskimo would just get on with the show and the snow, but I have to stew about it for several weeks, like a weightlifter pacing around the weight, getting his mind in condition.
Excellent, Sharon, walking 7 miles in 11 below temp. You are really either a little crazy or of very sturdy stock. I think it must be the latter. When I was about 15 I walked only 6 blocks at 50 below and landed that night in the hospital with pneumonia. Now that was crazy. With your careful preparations I am believing nothing like that will befall you. I'm wishing for more snow.
ReplyDeleteVoyager Carol
Carol, Does this mean you have read the entire blog clear back to October 11? Bravo! I think that since I walk or ski every day and stay out in the weather for several hours every day, and because it was up in the plus forties when I started, that my body gradually acclimated. I don't think I could have done the walk at 11 below in the wind on my first day here.
ReplyDeleteHi Sharon. . .we are wet, wet here and glad for it if the slopes hang on up there. I keep hoping that you will have a soft gentle evening snowfall that surrounds you in amazing silence. One that quiets the world completely and reveals diamond snow responding to any stray light. It is that kind of Minnesota night that made me want to walk and walk never to go back inside. I wish it for you. Voyager Carol
ReplyDeleteWow, Carol, you comment on this old posting. I am glad to her from you and appreciate your poetic words about soft new snow. I hope for the same. You can comment on the more recent posts if you want to. It works the same way. It's good to hear from you.
ReplyDelete