It’s winter in Connecticut and we’re digging out from another snowstorm. Our cars have literally become one with the snowdrifts. But for all the aggravation and the backaches the snow can bring, it also brings out our inner strength. We are New Englanders after all. The snow may slow us down, but it can’t completely stop us. We dig out. We carry on.
The other night as I was shoveling the driveway, I stopped to take in the beauty that surrounded me. I could see the stars in the sky, the moon was casting a silvery glow on the snow, and the pine trees were frosted with a dusting of white. As the moonbeams caught the icicles on the barn, they too shimmered in the evening light. All around me it was still and quiet and for that moment I felt transformed. It was just me and the moon and the stars in a winter wonderland.
We are New Englanders, and we are as much a part of this landscape as the Colonials, capes, and farmhouses that surround us. We are sturdy, we take care of each other, and we keep going. That’s why we grab our shovel and wade through 18-inches of snow to get to the birdseed. It’s winter in Connecticut.