Winter Bringdown

So February's gone. I tend not to blog much in February, but then I tend not to do much at all. I'm just not a Winter guy. And you can't get more Winter than February.

Lately I've been reading "Ghost Rider" by Neil Peart (Rush lyricist and drummer extraordinaire). In the book he mentions his "soulscape", which he believes to be the lake house he purchased in Quebec. There are passages where Peart describes the snowfall (in feet no less!) around the lake in terms of it being nearly perfect. His soulscape in winter during the winter season of his soul. Nice and poetic. perhaps, and certainly appropriate for that man at that time, but not for me. Ever.

For those unfamiliar with Neil Peart's story, he lost his only daughter in a one car accident. Then his wife succumbed to cancer a year later, though everyone close to her say that she died of a broken heart. Once cancer invaded her body couldn't fight the infection, but it's possible that she just didn't want to. The loss of her only child was too great and this gave her the excuse she needed to just give up and die. It's all so sad. And probably not the greatest book to read while expecting children.

Anyway, as a result of losing his entire world, Neil took off on a motorcycle trip from Canada to Mexico in search of the "healing road", if such a thing exists. He made it back home after Christmas and spent the winter in his lake house. However, when the first signs of Spring came, it was too difficult for him to handle and took off again for more travels.

The whole thing got me thinking. If I ever hit that level of depression and desperation I would have to do the opposite. I have a hard enough time with winter weather as it is. The cold temperatures settle into my bones bringing aches and stiffness. Winter wind just rips right through me, making me wear coats hats and scarves as armor against their sometimes brutal force. I don't view snow as a beautiful white covering on the ground that brings the clean fresh start of Spring. I see it as the white linen sheet that covers the dead and dying like in a hospital. The cold, grey days seep into the soul and make the spirit cold and grey as well. Depressing, I know, but that's how it feels. Sorry.

So if I ever get there, do everything you can to get my butt down South for the season. Depression in the winter would kill me.

Okay everybody, don't freak out. I'm not actually that depressed-I have a lot to focus on that takes my mind off of the Winter blahs. I feel them, but I don't revel in them. I have a wonderful family who I plan to keep around for all my years, thank you very much. There are always new things to discover and learn, new music to hear, books to read and movies to see.

Besides, March is here so the thermometer should be on the rise soon, usually a week or two after St. Patrick's day we can start putting away the heavy coats. Tessa's second birthday is coming in April. The twins will be here in May. Iron Maiden is doing a U.S. tour.

Life is good for me. And in case you're wondering, it's good for Mr. Peart too. He's returned to drumming and the musician's life he loves, and has remarried and has a new baby girl (the events in the book are about ten years old).

So yay for happy endings.