A Vermont December Evening

By G. E. Shuman

          There’s something a bit magical about a cold December night in the North, especially after the evening meal and conversation have come and gone. The hours to follow, to me, are special times to share, or even to be alone in.

          A winter evening is an exceedingly quiet time, often filled with the wonder of being drawn to a window during a gently falling snow. Outside that window, the earth has changed from the gray naked trees and bright white fluff of day to the inky blackness, crystal stars, and ghostly drifts of shimmering nighttime snow.

          Standing still outside on such a night, away from the warmth and sounds of the home, you can see and hear only what the snow wishes you to, and that is not a lot. This winter blanket covers the land, demanding the world’s attention as it hides every earthly detail and muffles every sound.

          I once observed that a windless rain landing on the fragile leaves of fall sounds exactly as does bacon frying; likewise, a windless snow drifting straight down to deepen that pristine blanket sounds like nothing at all.

          It is a picture of perfect silence, especially at this time of night, and somehow even more so at the edge of a forest in the bright light of a full and frozen moon.

          A solitary walk on such a night reveals much more about this Vermont December evening. Tiny lights twinkle from decorated neighborhood homes. Cars pad down newly softened streets, the red and green traffic lights themselves taking on fresh meaning in this magical month. And, along the walk, the scents of evergreen branches, evening coffee brewing, and wood fire chimney smoke is simply wonderful.

          If you’ve never been to our fine state, or if it’s been a while since you’ve visited in winter, I invite you to treat yourself to a truly heartwarming experience. Dress warmly and drive safely when you come up here. Watch out for deer on the road and moose at the tree line. They will not watch out for you.

          I wish everyone on earth the peace of this holiday season and the joy of knowing at least one Vermont December evening.

         

Dear Readers, Dear Friends,

                This week’s column will be a short one. (I know, some of you are breathing a sigh of relief already, with that news.)

                Sometimes I try to make you laugh in this space; sometimes I just want to make us all think. Today I would like us to think. I would also like us to feel. (By the way, this is a slightly edited version of an article I did a few years ago about Thanksgiving. I hope that’s okay.)

                Although our nation is already in the middle of a years-long very contentious political season, we have landed, this month, in what I would hope will be the opposite of a political season. We are in the Thanksgiving Season. In the years that I taught English, I would usually remember, in November, to ask one of the younger classes exactly what the word thanksgiving means. It seems that the first hand to go up to answer the question would usually be from some seventh-grade boy or other, who would immediately shout “TURKEY!” This is, obviously, in part due to ‘turkey’ being the other ‘T’ word most used on that day, and in response to the appetite of a seventh-grade boy. I would then explain that the word thanksgiving is a word composed of two other words and that the class should reverse the order of those two words. Giving Thanks, to me, is what Thanksgiving Day should be all about.

                Most people in our country, and I do realize that it is only most people, will celebrate Thanksgiving Day in the usual way this year. Our family, as likely yours, will get together for a massive feast and leave the table more ‘stuffed’ than that big ol’ turkey ever was. We will have gathered with those we love the most, and will have shared food and fellowship, laughter and love, and will leave that table and that shared time full indeed. My hope and my prayer is that we will be full of more than food. We should also be full of love, compassion, and, most of all, thankfulness.

                If possible, please take this special day as an opportunity to make it special for someone not in the ‘most people in our country’ group which began the paragraph above. Find someone to invite to your dinner table, someone who would have no feast without you. Or find a charitable organization that you and your family can provide some amount of support to, no matter how small that amount is. This act of thanks-giving ALWAYS brings a double blessing, one for the recipients, and another one for you.

                I told you this column would be short. (I wanted you to have time to read and consider it twice.) I absolutely wish you and yours a wonderful, THANKFUL Thanksgiving Day and I end this with an anonymous quote that I once read: “If you find that you have more than you need… get a bigger table.”