Reflections on Snow

By M. F. Erler

Snow…I’ve lived in places that get a lot of it.  Like Ashton, Idaho–where about four feet on the level was an average winter.  Michigan, where lake effect could dump a couple of feet in a couple of hours.  And I will admit I never liked driving in it, especially after I slid off Montana Highway 37 one day between Rexford and Eureka.

But now, I find myself wishing for it. No, I’m not a skier, though there has been some cross-country skiing in the past.  Maybe it’s because I’m retired…

I have two theories on this.  My current one is I’m reverting to my childhood.  I grew up in southern Arkansas (until I turned 11).  I never saw snow until I was past five years old.  It was amazing!  I remember running out to touch and being surprised that it was cold.  Maybe I was expecting that cottony stuff they put in the store windows to look like snow.

It never snowed at Christmas in Arkansas, but my two younger brothers and I always secretly wished for it.  Dad helped this along by playing his old 78-rpm Bing Crosby record every Christmas Eve.  It was “White Christmas” of course.  white christmas

When we moved to northern Illinois in 1963, I had my first actual white Christmas, and the house we were renting even had some old sleds in the garage.  What fun we had!  I guess this is my current state of mind–looking for ways to find joy in life, as the years fly past me.  Being back in Montana and seeing the snow-covered mountains is wonderful.  And I am thankful for the old memories, too. 


Played Forward with Memories

gunnar fish (2)A tale of fishermen. On my refrigerator hangs a picture of my great grandson holding up his first fish caught all by himself. The proud happiness gleams from the pinch of his fingers. This is a pay it forward version of family fun. The stories range from whoppers to minnows, but the love of fishing is paramount and passes from generation to generation. The peace and blessing I receive at looking at this fish picture is payback for the many fishing lines I have untangled, the many disputes over who gets what rod or who stands on what rock that I have settled. And for the skinny, white, hidden bones I have picked from fried trout. Not to mention the hours spent boning and canning smoked sockeye salmon. This picture brings me joy.  So do the others. Hope you have time to go fishing.  Marie

my son's biggest fish

my son’s biggest fish

He is still fishing

He is still fishing

Montana Rainbow

Montana Rainbow