Blog

Living in the northeastern part of the United States most of my life has afforded me the opportunity to enjoy the change in seasons. Growing up near the Jersey Shore meant frequenting Asbury Park. I might have met or seen Bruce Springsteen, but I wouldn’t know. I was never bored, and there was no need for additional amusements. You learned how to swim in the ocean, how to body surf, and how to handle rip tides. We had small transistor radios tuned into AM stations, and life seemed perfect. Over the years I’ve written about the beauty of the Fall, the display of colors and the Divine paintbrush at work, although, truth be told, having to rake leaves as a teenager was not a favorite chore. Winter as a child was always fun. Building snowmen, building forts on opposite sides of the street to bombard each other or the occasional unfortunate driver who passed by and downhill sledding were always eagerly anticipated, as well as the warming and delicious hot cocoa that awaited. While Spring meant the resumption of allergies, I’ve come to appreciate the rebirth of nature, the blossoming of trees, bushes and early perennials. 

Having had little snow these past few years, it takes time to reacquaint oneself with shoveling snow, cleaning off cars, spreading salt, and hoisting a 50-lb. bag of salt to replace the one just finished. The beauty of freshly fallen snow and the quiet of outside belie the soon-to-come responsibilities of keeping one’s property safe. How interesting that childhood joy has transformed into adult annoyance. Living in Pittsburgh makes it unusually challenging because of all the hills, as Pittsburgh is the second hilliest city, only trailing San Francisco. Alternate routes, which sometimes double travel time, must be considered, as an icy road is a route awaiting bad outcomes. 

Lost is the fact that this is January, and that it is supposed to be cold and supposed to snow,  the regular rotation of seasons. This past Fall was unusually mild and long, rather uncommon for us. The dog days of summer in August never appeared either, as Summer sort of gently gave way to Fall. There is a standing joke that Pittsburgh is that rare city where all four seasons can be experienced within one day. Poised on the edge of the Allegheny Mountains, which are the westernmost part of the Appalachians, mid-August mornings can be rather cold, reaching a hot peak by mid-afternoon. 

How often do we think of the change of seasons, and how regular they are? If we can manage to momentarily put aside unique weather events and the possible devastation that they cause, the fact that there is a regular rotation of Winter→Spring→Summer→Fall demonstrates not merely scientific fact, but also a Divine Hand in this regularity. We circle around the same sun for 365 days, revolve on our axis for a period of 24 hours, and experience approximately three months per season. To me, that testifies to God’s presence in the creation of all. The constancy, the order, the complexity and diversity in nature, and how all this works despite humanity’s best efforts to ruin it bespeaks the Eternal’s presence. Even the presence of snow is something we should be grateful for, as it is part of the cycle of replenishment of our water sources. The poet Danny Siegel expresses it majestically when he writes, “When we hope no more, a pattern in the snow reminds us of Your lovingkindness.” Even as our consumption of ibuprofen and calcium chloride increases, so should our gratitude for the grandeur of creation, and the privilege to be alive to witness it.