Can-Do Yankees...

Yup, the season that tests the strength of your muscles and spirit. We don't just look forward to our seasons, we earn them. Winter is the real test of how you brain works with less light, your relationships work in close quarters, your spirit works outside in bitter cold and your body works in snowy conditions. Learning to fly and fall on ice. Grabbing bumpers of cars to ride through the frozen slush. These are some of the things I remember loving so much.

I think the reason we Yankees idealize self-reliance, is that is how our forefathers survived and thrived. You endured the harsh winters, wallowed through mud-season, with the promise of spring and new possibilities.

Spring is a wonder to behold. The smells, sights unfolding, young critters, warm sunlight and cool breezes. Syrup season begins and the buckets dangle from the Maple trees as the winds grow warmer. I remember Mr. Olson, across the street, teaching the neighborhood kids how to tap trees. At the time he was just a nice neighbor with a sweet German Shepard, and a wife who made interesting plantings in the old watering trough in the center of town. Digital Equipment Corp wasn't on my childhood radar. Mr. Wang lived at the other end of our street, and his name didn't mean anything either.

Summers are hot and can be cold at night, too. Summers in New England can involve many layers of clothing over the course of one day. Perfect summers have low humidity, medium heat and high sun to cloud ratios. That is a rare summer in New England. Fog can ensnare you, humidity can make you feel you are walking through air made from sweat, sun can burn you and the water can tow you under. Yet we dance in the rain, sail in the fog, run in the sun and play in all kinds of water (rivers, streams, quarries, the ocean, ponds and waterfalls). Stealing a swim at a favorite skinny dipping spot during a full moon or by firefly light is also a grand summer adventure. Sailing by full moon, even better.

Fall is the most dramatic. Warm days, cool nights. Brilliant foliage, turning mountains into calico carpets rolled out for all to adore. Harvesting begins. The tree fruit and root vegetables are there most perfect to cook, drink and eat. Critters start to hibernate, migrate, and integrate with nature as the climate turns colder. Humans rake, aerate, cultivate and put to bed the land around their domiciles.

Winter comes. Blankets of white snow and rinks of black ice quiet the nature, critters and humans of New England. Now we're settling in for what could be a multi-day storm. Provisions in the kitchen, logs for the fire and my dog close at hand; I'm ready, at a moments notice to be self reliant for another few days and the remainder of the season.

Good night, You Can-Do Yankees, G'night!