Except for a light dusting at the beginning of the month, it’s been a snowless December in the Berkshires. Though hardly a dry one. The unusually inclement year is doubling down as it nears its end with rain forecast almost every day this week. The fields are water-logged. The road is mud. Our seasonal creek is overflowing its banks. The ground has yet to freeze for more than a day or two at a time. Morning mists linger well into the afternoon.
Winter will surely arrive at some point. But the demarcation lines between the seasons keep blurring, the goal posts moved without warning. The sub-zero month or two we used to brace for in January and February seems to have melted into a few weeks. It’s unsettling. Just one more thing in a rapidly thawing world we’ll probably have to end up accepting. Here’s a poem by the wise and witty American poet Maggie Smith, also on the subject of rain, and a coming-to-terms with things we cannot change.
Rain, New Year’s Eve
by Maggie Smith
The rain is a broken piano,
playing the same note over and over.
My five-year-old said that.
Already she knows loving the world
means loving the wobbles
you can’t shim, the creaks you can’t
oil silent—the jerry-rigged parts,
MacGyvered with twine and chewing gum.
Let me love the cold rain’s plinking.
Let me love the world the way I love
my young son, not only when
he cups my face in his sticky hands,
but when, roughhousing,
he accidentally splits my lip.
Let me love the world like a mother.
Let me be tender when it lets me down.
Let me listen to the rain’s one note
and hear a beginner’s song.
Lovely and wise. And I didn’t know that Maggie Smith poem. Thanks so much!
Thank you, Elizabeth. I have growing admiration for Maggie Smith’s work — and I’ll take her poetic mothering anytime!
Wishing my dear, old friend a grand 2024!
Rowena
Wishing the same for you, Rowena!
I did not know that poem either. So wise and wonderful.
I am one who loves four distinct seasons which is one reason I have always loved living in New England ( Connecticut and now Maine.) I love all the NE states. But this global warming/climate change situation does not make me happy. I believe it is very unnatural and unhealthy.
Sadly, I read that New England is the part of the country experiencing the highest rate of climate change …too much warming.
I love winter, and am so missing it! (I am not a hot-weather person.)
Sad….
A few snow flakes in the Berkshires this morning, Cheryl.I hope they’re finding you in Maine, as well. Wishing you a blustery, snow-filled winter just like the ones we used to know!
Exquisite photograph! I can feel the wetness you so aptly described.
Thank you, Judy.
What a beautiful poem, Liza. Thank you for sharing your perceptive writing on what is so unsettling about climate change.
Thanks, Patty. It’s unnerving to see it playing out right in front of our eyes.
Perfect Liza – something to remember, someday, when we have a drought ?!+
You’re right, Margie. Never thought I’d look forward to a little drought!
you have described the way I feel about this winter…so well.
and I loved the poem.
thank you for sharing. I look forward to these posts.
Good to hear from you, Gwen, whatever the weather.
AWOTC
Looks like Mother Nature read this and decided to let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Her poem is a good way to look at things.
Thanks, AWOTC. I take pride that I gave her a little hint — and she seems to have taken it.