Transformation is always afoot

whether it's welcome or not

Last week at this time, I got a notification from my daughter’s school that classes were cancelled the following day due to extreme cold temperatures. Lows of -20 were expected overnight, with windchills of -35, so school was called off. School was called off for cold once in January, too—which was, frankly, a welcome thing after last year’s winter that wasn’t.¹

It’s been a decent winter, mostly, this year—thanks to a January and February of below average temperatures and a few normal-ish snowfalls after the holidays, the ground has been covered with 6-8 inches of snow and the lake ice frozen to a good two feet thick. A few of our neighbors took to plowing an ice road around the perimeter for skating. I didn’t nordic ski as much as I would have preferred (we didn’t get quite enough snow for consistent good grooming at the state parks), but I got lots of laps in on the lake when not skating the ice road.

Here’s a drone shot of the lake from yesterday.

In fact, just this morning I did a few nordic laps just after dawn as the sun and snow harmonized into sparkles. As the morning woke up, so did I, by gliding over frozen glitter.

And then the temperature started its rapid climb. It was 50 degrees by noon. 70 degrees warmer than last week’s low of -20. It was a little disorienting. Deep winter to deep mud season in approximately five hours.

Poem found in Cold Spring Hallelujah

This year the stream didn’t just start to run. No, instead all the snow in the field at higher ground sprinted toward the lake in a forceful cascade, more ‘driving hard rock ballad’ than ‘choir’ this year. Beautiful in its own way, but nothing about this year’s melt was gentle. It’s February, and February usually prefers ice and snow. I still don’t really know what to do when the seasons refuse to stay in their own lane. Spring is being pushy and winter is letting them win, at least for now. Sometimes that’s how it goes, and there’s nothing we can do about it aside from looking for the good alongside the mess.²

The video below is me standing on the beach at where the ravine stream enters the lake. See ya, ice skating rink.

So, all that to say: Wherever you are and whatever transitions (whether they be wanted or unwanted) are part of your current situation, may you celebrate the beauty found in the good and find beauty, anyway, alongside the others, despite everything.

Written last year, during the most mild winter of my adult memory. Found in Church of Shadow and Light, which releases in April.

Upcoming Events:

This Saturday, March 1st is the 2025 Featured Author Fair, put on by the Anoka County Library. From 10:00am - 1:00pm I’ll be at the Northtown Library in Blaine, MN. William Kent Krueger is the keynote speaker, so be there at 10 if you want to see that. You will be able to buy copies of Collisions of Earth and Sky, 12 Tiny Things, as well as a sampling of the rest of my books…maybe even an early copy or two of Church of Shadow and Light.

1. We paddled the canoe on Christmas last year—not something I want to repeat anytime soon. In Minnesota, winter is for snow sports, not paddling.

2. Plenty of mess…too much water is a very short time means basement flooding watch starts way earlier than usual, the yard is a mess of dirty snow, ice, and mud, and the lake now has huge brown sub-lakes of melt water where the ravines let out. But there are also new bird songs to listen for, warm sun to feel, and the smell of soil after months of deep freeze.