Several years ago, I wrote a book titled THE QUIET SEASON. It was about winter. Here is a little of what I included in that
book:
Many winters have
come and gone since those days I spent growing up on a farm. Although these stories happened many years
ago, the details are as vivid to me as if I experienced them yesterday.
I remember the
feeling of walking back to the house after the evening milking on a below-zero
night. I would look upward and behold a
sky full of start, for there was no light pollution, nothing to block out the
tiny slivers of light punching holes in the black night.
I remember trees in
winter, the oaks and maples, aspens and birch, stark, thick gray trunks and
bare branches like hundreds of skinny fingers reaching skyward, grasping for
the unknown, embracing the unknown, embracing winter and allow it to paint ribbons
of snow on their branches. Everygreens
became pieces of art: the spruces tall and pyramidal, covered with snow from
top to bottom; the red and white pines looking a bit tortured as their limbs sagged under the weight of the winter
white.
I have always been
intrigued by snowflakes, especially the large, cotton-like ones. I like to watch snowflakes falling en masse,
and I marvel at how quickly they can turn a drab and brown landscape into a
world of white. Most impressive to me is
the close-up of a single snowflake: a frilly, fragile piece of frozen water
that nature has arranged into the most intricate of patterns.
Winter brings sounds
heard only during those cold months. A
crow’s call in winter is one of my favorite sounds. Crows are tough birds. Songbirds pack and leave for the South in
winter. So do the wild ducks, Canada
geese, and sandhill cranes. But not the
crows. On a cold day when I’m out
walking, I often hear crows calling, a loneseome, solitary sound. When I hear it I am reassured; winter may be
the harshest season, but the crows remain, withstanding the worst that nature
throws at them.
Perhaps the most striking and impressive sound of winter is the sound of silence. In winter the birdsong and animal chattering and fluttering of leaves has ceased. On a windless day there is often no sound at all. I may not have understood the power of silence in those days, but I do today, when it is more difficult to find than it was when I was a kid.
Of all the seasons,
winter is the most influential on the lives of people who experienced it. It is not just the length of winter that
creates a group of people called “northerners.” It is the less tangible, often mythical
characteristics of winter that forge a true northerner. Winter is much more than cold and snow.
THE OLD TIMER SAYS. Take time to remember how winter
has influenced you.
UPCOMING EVENTS:
Saturday, January 7, 2023, 1:30
p.m. Patterson Memorial Library, Wild
Rose, Wisconsin. Presentation on my
newest book: More than Words. That book
and other will be for sale and signing.
I plan to be there in person.
WHERE
TO BUY MY BOOKS (Including the Quiet Season). As you all know, books
make fine Christmas presents. See my website, www.jerryapps.com, for a listing of my books. Buy
my books from your local bookstore,
or buy online from the Wisconsin Historical Society bookstore, https://shop.wisconsinhistory.org/books, bookshop.org, or purchase from the Friends of the Patterson
Memorial Library in Wild Rose—a fundraiser for them. Phone: 920-622-3835 for
prices and ordering, or contact the librarian: barnard@wildroselibrary.
Patterson Memorial Library
500 Division Street
Wild Rose, WI 54984.
www.wildroselibrary.org
If you live in the
western part of the state, stop at Ruth’s home town, Westby, visit
Dregne’s. and look at their great
selection of my books. Order a book from them by calling 1-877-634-4414. They
will be happy to help you. If you live
in northcentral Wisconsin, stop at the Janke bookstore in Wausau (phone
715-845-9648). They also have a large
selection of my books.
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