The calendar announces winter is officially here. But the tenor of the season has already been with us for several weeks. Daylight shrank. Cold snaps arrived. And storms of snow, ice, and driving rains have swept across our great continent.
Each year, with this turn of the seasons, I am transported back, through space and time, memories flooding forth.
This winter finds me back in my native Texas. I have returned after most of a lifetime living away. My job meant I spent many winters on the road, meeting people in times of strife, despair, and struggle, but also hope, resilience, and even exuberance. I always was aware that locations foreign and distant for me were home to those who lived there.
I think of cold nights and warm hearths, pain and joy, yearning and contentment. Winter has a way of underscoring the more dramatic contours of our lives.
While work took me away a lot of the time, my fondest memories are invariably of my own home and family. In my reminiscences, a particular poem comes to mind, a favorite that I read aloud to my children when they were young (trying to encourage an interest in poetry).
It is "Winter: A Dirge" by the Scottish poet Robert Burns. I love its mixture of evocative imagery and full embrace for the mysteries of winter. There is a humility in understanding that the hardships of the season, and of life more generally, are beyond our ability to fully comprehend. We can find solace and resilience in appreciating the cycles of nature and forces much larger and more powerful than our whims, our frustrations, and our sense of self-importance.
I share it with you here, in the spirit of Steady. I would love to hear your thoughts about the season and the poem in the comments below.
Winter: A Dirge
BY ROBERT BURNS
The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or, the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.
The sweeping blast, the sky o’ercast,
The joyless winter-day,
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May:
The tempest’s howl, it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine!
Thou Pow’r Supreme, whose mighty scheme
These woes of mine fulfil,
Here, firm, I rest, they must be best,
Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want (O, do Thou grant
This one request of mine!)
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
Assist me to resign.
Note: If you are not already a subscriber to our Steady newsletter, please consider joining us. And we always appreciate you sharing our content with others and leaving your thoughts in the comments.
I enjoyed the poem - it resonates in Canadian winter!
I wanted to ask about the photo- is it public domain or do you know the photographer (I would like to try to paint it if copyright allows).
Thank you for quoting this Robert Burns poem for us! He was a great poet and you are a great commentator of current news!