Brave in the snow

"You're mighty brave to be taking the dogs out in this weather," the elderly woman said as she shuffled uncertainly back to her house after checking for the newspaper. I had seen her earlier, as we passed her house, while she walked her small dog, holding on to the siding of her home for fear of slipping.

"They're old dogs but they demand their exercise, even in the snow," I explained.

"I guess that's good for them and for you," she said, smiling.

After wishing each other a good day, she shuffled uncertainly into her house and we continued on the way back here, the dogs and I barreling our way through about four inches of snow on the ground, and more falling.

This is the first major snow storm of December and the month has roared in, like a lion. So much so, that I've decided to walk to my department (less than a mile) rather than risk the barely snow-cleared roads and the steep hills all over my college on the hill in my beloved salsa red Scion.

That's another advantage of being in a residential college, although it does make the possibility that classes will be canceled almost nil. I remember how at Harvard they bragged that not even a blizzard would close down the college, and it was true. In all the years I was there, I only remember the college closing once and it was during one of the mightiest and history-making blizzards to hit the Northeast in the 1980s.

This isn't a blizzard, not even close, and it actually seems to have finally stopped snowing.

Looking outside my picture window into the woods, everything looks like a Winter Wonderland. Hot-blooded Caribbean woman that I am, I'm not sure why my soul finds such aesthetic affinity in a snow-covered landscape. But it does.

Even my Puerto Rican sato dogs don't mind the snow and walk through it like they had been doing it all their lives, which I guess is not a bad estimate since, especially in dog years, they've spent almost half their lives in Ohio already.

I've learned to live with the cold outside as long as it's warm inside. Of course, I'm greatly aided by good winter gear: a parka (my "personal flotation device" a friend once called it) that purportedly resists cold below minus 20 degrees, snow boots that are lined with fleece inside and fleece-lined, water proof gloves. The goofy red hat, made of fleece with a big fabric flower on top, may have been a lapse in fashion judgment, but it keeps my hair dry and my ears covered.

The blanket of snow creates the quietest of silences and it allows the bird calls to reverberate as if they were being sung in the most glorious opera house. There's an undeniable beauty to winter, especially when you can appreciate it without having to worry about sliding cars, slipping on ice or having to live outside in the cold.

Since I'm privileged to be in those categories, I'm going to appreciate the day to the fullest and brave the snow.