For the Love of Cold

A bulge of arctic air descended on Colorado last week. When I went cross-country skiing on Saturday, the high was 15 degrees. But out on the trail, enjoying each stretch of the skis through powdered snow, marveling at the thick layers of snow on the high peaks, and feeling the comfort of the sun’s rays, I didn’t mind the cold; in fact, it felt good. After a summer of hot weather and little precipitation—a weather pattern that extended into the fall—the cold seems like a luxury, something to enjoy, relish and be grateful for.

Last November, I was inside the cabin staring out at the few inches of snow on the ground—an early winter gift. On my computer I saw a story about a fire that destroyed the town of Paradise, California. At first I couldn’t make my brain compute—trying to correlate the snow on the ground here with the videos of the gray ruins of a town and flames ravaging forests. Surely, this was some technical glitch on the Internet, producing a story from last summer. When I realized the horrifying truth, I could only wish for snow and cold to descend on California, as it eventually did.

In this age of climate change and increasing fires, winter has become a respite. After worrying all summer that a fire would break out among the cabins and forests in Meeker Park and the rest of Colorado, and watching the ponderosas, aspens, willow bushes and flowering plants start to suffer from lack of moisture, I relax now, knowing that the blanket of snow is replenishing the trees and other vegetation.   

After days last summer of smoky skies and air from fires to the West, for the next few months I don’t have to worry about breathing in the noxious air when I  go for a walk. And I don’t have to avoid going for a hike in the middle of the day because it’s too hot. Instead I can enjoy our clear skies, deeply blue once again, inhale the sharp, cold air and even enjoy the natural warmth of the sun.

More than that, the cold feels like a challenge, like something alive, something that wakes us up. Cold reminds us that the world can be hostile and that we have to be constantly alert. A small thing like accidentally getting my glove wet (dropping it in the snow, for example) when I’m out hiking or skiing can lead to serious consequences, like frostbite. Or if I take the wrong turn on a trail and got lost, even if for a short period of time, I could suffer from hypothermia if I can’t find my way back before early darkness and cold descended.

On the other hand, warmth puts us at ease and lulls us into a sense of security that might not be warranted in this day and age when glaciers are melting, the sea is rising, and a whole town can be wiped out by a catastrophic fire.

Even as I write this, the temperatures here in the mountains have climbed into the 50s—almost unheard of at 8,500 feet in January and another ominous sign of global warming. The snow is starting to melt around the edges, and the creeks are already thawing. I’m already looking forward to the next cold snap.

Comments

[Shoney]

Thank you for sharing your love of cold....and lovely photos. As a person who does not like cold, one of the many things I loved about Colorado was how quickly the sun came out and how warm it became even in winter. Enjoy!

[Carol Christenson]

Having lived in Colorado for over two decades and now in coastal California, it is interesting getting used to different kinds of weather. I was certainly used to cold and snow and because of that familiarity, big storms and heavy snow were not unsettling. Lately, in Aptos, we have had torrential rain accompanied by high winds. I am not used to this combo, especially when it is not part of a thunderstorm that passes over fairly quickly. These coastal storms go on and on and it is a bit unsettling!

[Kathy Kaiser]

Carol, I love a good storm, but I might find them unsettling after a while, too.

[Kathy Kaiser]

Shoney, I love the snowstorms but also love when the sun comes out. Stay warm.