Last updated on November 15, 2020
Light stands proudly on the evening horizon pushing the long dark winter nights away. Joining in are the sun’s soothing rays, massaging tired limbs with a warm touch as skates carve deeper into the softening ice, now making the annual retreat from rinks, ponds and canals.
March is not rude or aggressive in its pursuit of spring and summer. She holds winter’s hand, gently escorting him away from his prominent place in the Canadian landscape and our hearts. She showcases winter’s white grandeur in the bright rays of the returning sun. March is a kind mother who takes winter away slowly from her clingy winter-loving children like me.
March knows that hockey players with our long strides on glassy sheets of ice under the lights of a silent rink in the woods will soon be gone. The magical ping of the puck hitting the crossbar will soon be silenced. March knows she is taking snow from trails where we glide amid pines or carve the mountain slopes close to drifting clouds.
March knows we experience loss, and knows how to introduce the soothing embrace of spring and summer.
But March knows, especially, that she is the instrument of the One who created all things. She is the instrument of the One I thank and praise for the beautiful gift of winter, for the excitement in my heart when a winter storm approaches, when the skies are heavy and dark like the Colorado low that came our way building it’s arsenal for a hit of close to 40 cm of white gold. I prayed, hoped, and waited with the same excited glow I had as a kid in Toronto. Crystal flakes filled the sky as if falling from the playful fingers of angels.
As I yield to March I yield to the truth that all things are passing, all that we touch and see that comes from the One who is Beauty.
O Lord, You are eternally You, forever present to us. And though our bodies will one day lie beneath tomorrow’s falling snow, we who have loved will rest eternally in You.