Why Mainers Love the Winter

They’ll never admit it, but they all love it. In this post, I’ll tell you why. I’ll also share some thoughts on remarkable people.

I think winter has finally kicked in. Maine has been let off the hook for most of November and December, but just as luck would have it, Mother Nature has thrown down the gauntlet. January usually is when the fun begins though. Sometimes we get hit with a storm or two in December, but when January rolls around, there’s no getting out of it. Winter will arrive and you will have to deal with it. That’s just the way it is. And yes, as you look out the window at the 14” that are covering your driveway and walkway, you’ll likely ask yourself what the outside temperature is. “Oh really? It’s 34°? That’s above freezing. Well then. I think that snow might just melt on its own. I might not even have to shovel at all!” And then as high noon passes and the sun begins its fall, you admit to yourself that nothing has changed. No snow has melted and any enthusiasm you once had upon waking has all but disappeared. You could have shoveled early in the morning and had done with it, but no, you had to wait and eat breakfast and lunch. And then you had to settle into your favorite recliner. Maybe watch a little TV or listen to some music. The typical snow day. The snow’s still got to get cleared though. Remember that.

In This Post

The Unbreakable Bond with the Bitter Cold

I was talking with one of my friends a few weeks ago. He lives in Arizona and after I mentioned that we were walloped by our first snow storm of the season, he replied, “Why do you put up with it? I haven’t had to shovel snow in decades. It’s great here in Arizona.”

I’ve heard it all before. Quite a few folks I know live in climates where virtually no snow falls from the sky. Most of them are positive about the winter pictures they see on the internet and social media, but are happy they escaped the cold weather. I suppose I don’t blame them. To each his own. Some of them don’t understand why anyone would ever want to subject themselves to the northern way of life though. They don’t understand why people live in Maine. Or anyplace in northern New England for that matter. And that’s part of the reason I wanted to write this post today – to explain a few things. To help people see, or perhaps just understand, the beauty and nostalgia of the winter season.

Before I begin, I’d like you to take a look at some photos I took earlier this week. Yes it snowed and yes I had to clear it from our driveway. But after I did that, I brought my camera outside to enjoy some time by myself capturing the scene.

Cleared Driveway After Snow Storm - 30 Second Exposure, ISO 100 — Cleared Driveway After Snow Storm – 30 Second Exposure, ISO 100

Light Trails from Pickup Truck - 30 Second Exposure, ISO 100 — Light Trails from Pickup Truck – 30 Second Exposure, ISO 100

My goal was to experiment with my camera, but beyond that, I wanted to simply enjoy the lack of sound after the snowfall. Have you ever experienced that? If there’s no wind and no one is around, you could here a pin drop. I love that feeling. Of being by myself, standing in the snow, listening to virtually nothing. Times like these don’t happen often, so when they do, I take advantage of them.

By the way, if you’d like to see many more similar cold weather photos of mine, please take a look at my post: Winter in Maine.

It’s Difficult to Explain…

Mainers do complain about the winter. I hear those complaints all the time. “Oh boy. Here’s another one. We’re supposed to get a foot on Wednesday. I can’t wait for summer!” While they complain though, I do sense their cleverly concealed excitement. And they never talk about leaving the state. And very few of them ever actually do. They enjoy the snowfall and the traditional cleanup afterwards that keeps them interested in life. They love everything about it. Why? Because having to run to the grocery store to stock up on milk, bread, and eggs is what people in the north have been doing for ages. Our grandmothers did it, our mothers did it, and now we do it.

It’s what needs to get done. And it’s downright exciting.

Because there’s nothing like the feeling of nearly freezing your fingertips off outdoors and then running inside to stand over the wood stove to warm them back up.

I’m being serious here. It’s one of those things we get used to.

There’s nothing like pulling on your big boots to run out to the mailbox, trudging through the thick of it. And then, upon returning to the house, kicking that snow off the boots to watch it scatter all over the floor. “Quick, sweep it up before it melts!”

We all know we’ve done it.

There’s nothing like trying to open your car door, experiencing a bit of trouble actually getting the door open because of all the ice, and then sitting inside the car, rubbing your hands together, blowing on your fingers to warm them up, all while being able to see your breath. It’s like watching the steam leave the tea kettle just as the water begins to warm. It wisps and then disappears and then wisps again.

It’s all so strange, yet oddly rewarding.

I understand that what I just mentioned above is enough to drive any sane person from the north forever. But for those who revel in the cold, these are the things they look forward to. And I also know these things sound downright silly and annoying to deal with, but when you’re forced to endure these sorts of challenges year after year, they somehow become endearing and for some strange reason, an eagerly anticipated part of life.

Splitting Wood & Cutting Trees

My favorite time to split wood is in the winter when there’s snow on the ground. I’ve been splitting wood all my life and have always wondered why my father chose the winter months to do his splitting. I’d help him in the middle of January, freezing every single minute of doing what we had to do. I’d want to run back indoors to crawl under my blankets to warm up. I don’t think I enjoyed splitting wood back then. I guess that’s because I wasn’t grown up yet. I hadn’t come to appreciate what working in the cold can do for a person. It’s like drinking whiskey – the taste had yet to become acquired. Today, I carve a nice spot next to the garage upon which to roll my logs and I’ll split until I’m finished. Sometimes, I’ll hesitantly leave a few to work on the next day or the day after that. I get a high from working outside during the winter. I enjoy the loneliness and the bitterness of it. It makes me feel alive.

I was listening to John Tesh on the radio this past Tuesday night. If you aren’t familiar with John Tesh, he’s a radio host who loves to offer on-air statistics and randomly interesting information to his listeners. This Tuesday, he informed me that splitting wood for one hour can increase a man’s testosterone by up to 48.6%. Strange, I know. Take a look at this:

“The study found that chopping wood raised the villagers’ testosterone levels significantly! The Tsimane men who chopped wood and cleared brush showed a 48.6% increase in testosterone after 1 hour of chopping wood. The ones who played in a soccer tournament only showed an average increase of 30.1%.” Source.

I wonder if this has something to do with the high I feel.

Back when I was a young man, I worked in the tree care industry. I’d wake up very early in the morning to drive to an office and truck yard in Westchester County, New York and then join one of the many crews that would visit properties around the area just north of New York City to perform tree work. My memory of the overall experience is fuzzy, but I do clearly recall a few of the jobs we completed. What I remember most though is lingering in front of the big tree trucks around 7am, waiting for them to warm up. The smell of diesel exhaust. The sound of those engines idling along. Standing there with a coffee in my hand. In one of those Styrofoam cups. In the cold. It was the middle of winter when I worked for that company. I was only 18 years old and most of what I can remember had to do with waiting in front of those trucks. Everyone hustled to load the chainsaws, gasoline, and other gear we’d need for the day and we were all bundled up to keep warm. Once the trucks were warmed up, we’d all get in the one that was assigned to us and leave for the day’s work. I have fond memories of doing those sorts of things. But the memory of the smell of that diesel in the winter’s air. I’m not sure that’ll ever go away.

What Do People Love the Most About Winter?

I did some reading and found quite a few excellent reasons folks love the winter. I’ll list them below.

Snow.
Ski season.
Ice skating.
Hot chocolate.
Christmas lights.
Wearing cozy clothes.
Honestly I just love the way the air smells in the winter time.
I love the “winter flavors” like peppermint, gingerbread, maple brown sugar, and cranberry. Plus I love being inside and cozy when its snowing.
When it snows overnight, I like to go out front and enjoy a cup of coffee with a glass of Grand Marnier while I smoke a nice cigar. It’s very peaceful, meditative, and soothing.
I grew up in the middle of nowhere Maine with no streetlights or light pollution. I loved when there was enough snow cover to make the nighttime bright enough to see without artificial light.
This will sound weird, but my favorite part of the winter is the silence. I find it wonderful to go outside after it has snowed (or when it is snowing) and experience the pristine sense of silence. It’s kind of ambient.
Sleigh riding, building snowmen, snowball fights, building snow forts, snowshoeing, snow hiking, wearing Wonder bread bags over my feet inside of my boots so my socks don’t get wet (I haven’t done THAT in a while!), cooking soup on the wood stove, losing mittens and gloves, MOON BOOTS, selling Christmas wreaths for the Cub Scouts, building gingerbread houses, advent calendars, Christmas shows, baking bread, winter camping – you get the idea.

Number eight referred to being cozy, which brings me to my next topic…

The Post & Beam Living Room

I was hesitant to accept the couches when our neighbor asked if we wanted them. We already owned two couches. We didn’t have the space. I sure am glad he wore us down, though. He and his wife bought new ones and as he was driving down our road to bring the old ones to the dump, he saw us out in front of our house. He pulled his truck in the driveway, I saw how small the couches were and how easily they’d fit in the house, and the rest is history. For a few hours that very same day, Laura and I worked to move nearly the entire lower floor of our home to fit the new furniture. And now I can’t get over how cozy it all looks. Take a peek.

We live in a post and beam home and yes, those are the Christmas lights I hung along the beams about a month ago. I love those lights.

Years ago, Laura’s mother kindly gifted Laura her beautiful hutch. It’s a lovely piece of furniture that we’re very fond of. We take extremely good care of it. Here it is in all its glory.

While the hutch is striking in its own right, I feel that its position juxtaposed with my orange snowmobiling sign is what truly brings this image to life. Believe it or not, I didn’t even notice the sign was there as I was taking the picture. I even tried to remove it in Photoshop, to no avail. The best I could do is bring attention to it in a futile attempt to play it off as if it was meant to be there all along, which it wasn’t. But it is my sign and I do like it, so I have a feeling it’ll remain for the duration.

I don’t ask for much in life and what I do have, I’m very grateful for. Having a home like this in which to warm up…well, it’s pretty much all I’ve ever wanted. It goes well with the winter cold and the snow and everything else that comes along with our lives. Now, after I do the shoveling, I can return indoors to get toasty in the living room. That’s not too bad.

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How to Be Remarkable

I can’t say I’m a very remarkable person. I’m not wildly successful, popular, or powerful. What I am though, is dependable, trustworthy, and hard working. When someone asks me to do something, it gets done. And it gets done well. The one attribute I admire most about my adult self is that when I complete a project and inform someone of the result, that person or group of people is impressed. But again, I’m not remarkable – what I am most of all is present. And, dare I say, useful.

What is remarkable, anyway? What does it mean? I know what I think it means; someone who’s done something worthy of remark, in a good way. “Hey, that man can juggle 16 bananas and a peach! He’s remarkable.” Just the fact that someone took notice of how skilled the juggler was and then said something about it, means the juggler was remarkable. What does the dictionary say it means?

Definition: worthy of being or likely to be noticed especially as being uncommon or extraordinary.

I guess that’s pretty much what I said. Except that I neglected to add that remarkable can also be applied to things as well as people. “The stars tonight are remarkable.”

I received a post from Chris Wojcik of The Grappler’s Diary via email last week. He writes on Substack like I do and he’s also a Jiu-jitsu enthusiast like I am. He struggles with trying to figure things out and how to put all the pieces of life together, yes – like I do. I guess we’ve got a lot in common. Chris recently wrote a post that touches on the subject of – you guessed it, how to be remarkable. Chris’ piece got me thinking about my own life and the lives of people I know. I began wondering about who I’ve noticed throughout my life. I also began thinking about what exactly made me notice them. What they did. What they achieved. It didn’t take long to unearth a common thread among everyone who came to mind; not one person was granted any amount of remarkability for free. What I mean to say is that they worked for it and earned it. And it took a long time to do that. Remarkability isn’t cheap, but it also doesn’t require excellence. What is does call for, however, is for the person to show up when needed and to do a good job. Eventually, the person will earn a name for him or herself and others will admire them, or, at the very least, notice them.

I used to train Jiu-Jitsu in Florida. Laura and I lived there for six months in 2013. At that time, many of the more senior students on the east coast were still brown belts. Those brown belts were right on the cusp of earning black.

One day, while training in St. Augustine, a black belt walked through the doors of our club. He changed into his gi and began rolling with the rest of us. When it was my turn, I mentioned to him how I found it incredible that he was a black belt and that he must be very good. He looked at me and said, “Trust me, I’m not that good. What I did was show up for class a lot.” That statement stuck with me through the years because now that I’m a black belt, I see what he meant. From my time in Florida to the present day, I’ve probably gotten worse at Jiu-Jitsu. I’ve gotten older and I’ve gotten slower. But what I did do over the past ten years is show up to class like clockwork. I didn’t train excessively or go out of my way to do anything special. I merely attended and attempted to be useful. And for that, I was granted the role of instructor as well as my brown belt and eventual black belt.

In my opinion, earning a black belt is a remarkable feat, even if the person who earned it isn’t remarkable at all. I’ll also admit that I may be splitting hairs here. Let’s continue.

I saw an interview with singer, writer, spoken word artist, actor, comedian, and presenter, Henry Rollins a whole bunch of years ago. I’ll always remember that interview because much of what he said resonated with me. I’ll post the interview below, but above it, I’ll share a few quotes from it that stood out to me.

“I said yes to everything, worked like a crazy man, realizing guys like me fail most of the time.“

“I don’t have talent, I have tenacity. I have discipline. I have focus and I know without any illusion where I come from and what I can go back to.“

“So it is a story of a lot of luck, but taking advantage of a lot of opportunity, working really damn hard, knowing there was no choice for me but to work really hard.“

“The repeating factors of my life have been application, discipline, focus, repetition.“

They estimate Henry Rollins’ net worth to be around $6 million, which isn’t bad, considering he got his first big break while earning minimum wage working at an ice cream shop.

Is Henry Rollins a remarkable person? I don’t know. I’ve never met him. I will say that his determination and perseverance are remarkable though. Of that, I’m certain.

If you’re interested, you can watch Henry’s interview below.

Henry Rollins Interview

In Chris Wojcik’s post, he mentions being useful as one of the primary attributes of being remarkable. He says, “To be remarkable, you need to build skills and you need to apply those skills in a useful way.” Which fits perfectly with what I read just last night in the book titled, John Adams by David McCullough. On page 33, the author writes:

Father and mother were hardworking and frugal of necessity, as well as by principle. “Let frugality and industry be our virtues,” John Adams advised Abigail concerning the raising of their own children. “Fire them with ambition to be useful,” he wrote, echoing what had been learned at home.

It appears that being useful is a respected and necessary characteristic of one’s existence, if they’d like to be regarded as remarkable, this is. The question now becomes, how can a person make themselves useful? Well, as Chris puts it, the person would need to build skills and then apply them in a useful way. Personally, I say that a person doesn’t necessarily need to even build skills. To me, showing up, at times, is enough.

For instance, let’s say you’re extraordinarily trustworthy and dependable and you’ve been granted access to an important building. You are, shall we say, the keymaster – the only one who has a key. Through thick and thin, rain, sleet, and snow, you’re the person everyone who need to access the building turns to for admission. And you’ve been granting these very folks admission for decades. Would you say you’re useful? I’d argue that you’re very useful. Would you say you’re remarkable? Because you’ve been trusted (an inherent quality) with doing the same thing for decades, yes, I’d say you are remarkable. And I’d also like to mention that doing anything for decades is remarkable. Folks who have that type of, as my mother used to call it, “stick-to-itiveness” are treasured rarities indeed.

I think what Chris, and John Adams for that matter, was referring to was how a person could build skills that everyone doesn’t have, can’t easily acquire, or doesn’t care to acquire. Think about welders, photographers, and computer programmers. These are important trades that not everyone has the time or wherewithal to partake in. There certainly are skills attached to them though and when applied as a useful entity to society by a person who has stood apart from the rest for one reason or another, the result can easily become not only a remarkable feat, but a remarkable person as well.

Who?

If you’re interested in a few examples of people who have done remarkable things while being remarkable themselves, please keep reading. I’ll list them now: Jane Goodall, Charles Darwin, Amelia Earhart, Thomas Edison, Eleanor Roosevelt, Abraham Lincoln, Queen Elizabeth, Elon Musk, Margaret Thatcher, Winston Churchill, Marie Curie, Steven Spielberg, Ada Lovelace, and obviously many more.

Each example person I just listed above has qualities about him or herself that were either granted at birth or learned later on. With those qualities, these people somehow added value to the world. Simply put, with their qualities, they were useful.

I suppose the point of all this is personal. Every day, each of us has an opportunity to be present, to either do something that’s remarkable, be remarkable, or both. While each of us has our own struggles and successes, what we choose to do with our time takes thought and effort. Personally, I enjoy being useful for the sake and pleasure of it. How about you?