They who sing through the summer must dance through the winter.Italian Proverb
I admit to not being a fan of winter. I grew up in the north woods of Wisconsin where the season is long and takes no prisoners. The cold seeps through bulky sweaters, heavy wool coats, layers of gloves. It doesn’t matter. Your breath freezes to the scarf wrapped around your face and becomes a mask of ice. The roads and walks are slip and slides.
The resort area where I lived, with the advent of snow mobiles and aggressive advertising, is now a year around destination. During my time, once November passed and deer hunting season was over, not much happened until the tourists came back in early summer. Those of us who were year- around residents were left to our own devices.
I don’t mean to suggest this wasn’t an ideal place to grow up. As children, we loved it. We skated, took out our sleds, made snow angels and built snowmen. My grandfather had all the snow from our drive plowed into a big snowbank which we used to slide down on saucers.
Looking back on those long winters, I’m sure adults didn’t greet them with the same enthusiasm we, kids, did. Oh, but the summers and autumns were fabulous. That’s why all the tourists came. It truly is a paradise and in those days, it was our paradise. As the Italian proverb says, you have to take the bad with the good.