The snow fell all through the night and I awoke to 17 inches of really fluffy powder on my deck. It is gorgeous outside, white, cold and lovely. I look in my backyard and see trees bending to carry the extra weight , bowing lower and lower to the ground to compensate for this extra burden and now and then a bit of snow will reach the breaking point and powdery flakes will surrender to join the group on the ground. It’s so peaceful and quiet. Taylor’s rail, which sits high above the ground, is almost covered to the top with snow. I love having Taylor home- when he was growing up, he would spend hours and hours working on his skiing and snowboarding skills in the backyard. Starting at the higher part of our yard he would construct a “tricks” park using objects from behind the shed to make jumps and rails. Day and night, he could be found perfecting a jump. I get a lot of satisfaction knowing my children are outside playing, exploring and thinking. I would watch him as I passed by the windows, happy with his full engagement in doing something he loved. This year is no different. One Saturday, Taylor went with Joe’s business partner, Laker, to his incredible workshop and they made a rail. They spent the day creating and welding and Taylor came home energized as he feverishly worked to place the rail in the perfect spot in our yard. When Maggie and Kate are over, they love to watch Taylor from the deck as he hits the rail on his skies, forward and backward. It does have its dangers, though, as not every trick can be landed perfectly, as Taylor is well aware of as he bandages a wound in his back every night.
We talked about the book, My Antonia by Willa Cather, at book club this week and part of our discussion focused on how “playing outside” has changed from our generation to our children’s generation and now to their children’s. Most of my friends experienced childhood running outside, sometimes all day in the summer, the grass under our feet, giving little care to food or nourishment and then being called home, our name yelled out by a parent from the front porch, at the end of the day. It felt to us like a freer time when parents didn’t worry about every minute of their child’s whereabouts. And yet, part of me suspects that it was just as dangerous then as living today. My own children did not have that kind of freedom. We didn’t have a lot of children on our street and so we did more of the “playdate” kind of thing, although it wasn’t called that then. I longed for my children to know that kind of “street” fun because I think it so shapes our character, there’s all this dealing with other children of all ages, learning about yourself, learning how to cooperate and be a team player, and just living out there with the land, exploring and discovering. For me it was all about watching how other kids handled themselves and how they reacted when they played games, losing and winning, giving and taking.
When I watch Taylor, I am reminded of the winter I spent learning to complete a back handspring. I was in the 8th grade, 14 years of age, and more than anything I dreamed of being a 9th grade cheerleader and I had to know how to do a back handspring. In my mind it seemed that practicing on the snow would be a safer way to come down as I tried to learn this skill. I didn’t have gymnastic lessons, everything I learned came from gym class or friends but I spent hour upon hour trying, failing and then finally succeeding in the back handspring. That outside winter play taught me a lot about my self. Sometimes it’s that self-coaching, that self encouraging that speaks the loudest to us, maybe through those experiences we learn to trust and believe in the words we tell ourselves.
Willa Cather says in My Antonia “The earth was warm under me, and warm as I crumbled it through my fingers…I kept as still as I could. Nothing happened. I did not expect anything to happen. I was something that lay under the sun and felt it, like the pumpkins, and I did not want to be anything more. I was entirely happy. Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.”
As a side note, as I look out my front window, all I see is a driveway covered with much, much snow and with a husband on his way home from Dallas I am fully aware that if it’s to be (shoveled) it’s up to me. So I will put on my boots and gloves, bundle warm enough to do the task and maybe it will even remind me of those past days when I spent hours playing in the snow, alone with my thoughts (and dreams)!
17 inches of snow and counting!
Video of Taylor on rail. Click on video # and follow to link.
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