Trees in Winter

A foot of snow (or maybe 17 inches) within three days has turned our landscape into a winter wonderland. And because I didn’t have to go anywhere other than down the road to church, I had time to let my creativity roam through the world outside my window. Here is the result.

Trees in Winter 

Frost—

Twigs wearing delicate lace scarves 

Flurry—

Sprouts caught in white cobweb 

Snow shower—

Sprays of snowdrops raining down 

Heavy snowfall—

Boughs resting under woolen blankets 

Blizzard—

Branches transformed into ghosts 

Ice storm—

Limbs adorned with diamond bracelets 

Winter—

Nature’s decorator

Winter Haikus

I spent Saturday afternoon at a writing workshop. I was a volunteer (event photographer) rather than a registrant, so I was in and out of the sessions and didn’t get to participate in most of the exercises. Still, I was inspired by one of the poetry sessions to write my own winter haikus.

A haiku is a poetry form that originated in Japan. It is a three-line, seventeen-syllable poem with five syllables in the first line, seven in the second, and five in the third. Haikus usually focus on images from nature.

The first deals with the beauty of snow and ice.

White falling droplets
Winter water ice and snow
Veil bushes and trees.

 

This one talks about a pastime I used to enjoy in my much younger days.

 

Firm sparkling water

Skaters glide by to and fro

Lake frozen over.

 

And this final poem talks about the drive home from the Strictly Sail show on Friday.

 

Snow covers freeway

Drivers watch for white lane lines

Going steady slow.

 

Okay, so I’m not a great haiku writer. But it’s fun to try now and then.

 

How about you?



What's a Little Snow?

I grew up in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and have spent most of my adult life in or around Chicago, so I’ve seen a lot of snow. This weekend’s ten inches barely counts.

Well, it did keep some people away from church and reduced our attendance by around half. It also got some of us talking about when it was appropriate to cancel church.

My father always said that he would have the worship service if there was even one person in the congregation. That was before e-mail and systems that shoot a message to multiple telephone numbers at once, so it wasn’t as easy to cancel church as it is these days. Still, I don’t think that was his reasoning. Daddy just couldn’t imagine denying anyone the fellowship and spiritual nourishment that comes with worship.

That’s what I missed after the blizzard of 1979. The picture shows my roommate standing in front of my car several days after the blizzard. I was living on the north side of Chicago and attending a church that was a 10-15 minute el (elevated train) ride away. But the el and most of the buses weren’t running, and I certainly wasn’t going to drive.

There was a church about six blocks from my apartment, so I called to confirm that it was still having a service. Then I started walking. No, not walking. I trudged through snow that was higher than my knees. Twenty minutes and two blocks later, I was exhausted. I also realized that church would be over by the time I made it.

I really had no choice but to turn around and go back, and I know that God understood why I wasn’t in church. But I knew something was missing, and I felt the void.

Church renews me and carries me through the week, so if I can make it, I will.

And ten inches is nowhere near enough to keep me away.

Let It Snow

The six inches of snow we had on Friday wasn't the first significant snowfall this winter, and it was no big deal. Not for someone who grew up in Michigan and has spent most of her adult years in NW Indiana.

I love living in a part of the country that has four distinct seasons. And even though winter is not my favorite of the four, I love it, too.

The pristine look of newly fallen snow. The lace and spangles sewn onto trees and bushes by Mother Nature. Even the invigorating exercise when the snow is dry and easy to shovel.

Winter is great when I have gasoline in the snow blower and hats and gloves and boots to go with a nice warm coat. But since I can never be sure when that first significant snowfall will arrive, it pays to be prepared long before I expect it.

Death is like that, too. Roland's father was prepared. Dad and Mom not only got their wills in order, but they planned and pre-paid for their funerals. They even set aside the clothes they wanted to be laid out in. So when Dad died earlier this month, there was little left to do.

Still, wills and funeral arrangements are insignificant compared to the question of where we will spend eternity. Dad was a committed Christian, and he knew his answer to that question. When death came, he was prepared to spend the rest of his life with his Father.

The first snowfall can surprise us with its timing, and so can death. Are you prepared?