Misunderstood Season

(To celebrate 100 subscribers, here is a very short fiction story.)

My brother’s favorite season was winter. He would always tell me that the cold was the most comfortable in his hefty polar bear skin. For the rest of us in the upper Midwest, it was the bane of existence for four months of the year. From the end of November to Early April, it felt like an attack on one’s very person to live in such a place. 

Winds howling like wild dogs might launch themselves from the night. Ice creeps across sidewalks and waits for the unsuspecting walker to step just wrong. A blank grey sheet of nothing pulled across the sky sending all who live in the bleak region to be lulled into restlessness. 

“No, no, no. Marta, you misunderstand winter,” Herbert, said brother, proclaimed over the phone as we discussed holiday carpooling plans. 

“I’m misunderstanding a season where my nose bleeds every other week because it’s so cold?” 

“Yes! You’re not seeing the fun of it,” He sighed. 

“I’m not seeing the fun of having nose bleeds every other week?” 

Herbert snorted at me, “No, you goober. You’re not seeing the fun of the cold in the Midwest.”  

That’s how we ended up walking through the ice caves at Meyers Beach on Lake Superior. Herbert walked confidently on the ice in his sneakers, like the polar bear he was, in just a hooded sweatshirt layered over a flannel. I waddled out like a penguin in snow boots and stuffed into the biggest puffer parka I owned with three other layers underneath. 

“Are you feeling it yet?” He asked, his phone in one hand as he snapped photo after photo of the icicles. 

The Lake had frozen so we were able to walk over it. The feeling of walking on a vast stretch of water, the thick crust beneath our feet, and the dark water further below, left an unsettled flutter in my stomach. 

I shivered. “Oh, I feel it.” 

“Oh, come on. You can’t say this isn’t awesome.” 

“It’s beautiful. I’m just freezing.” I whined, clutching my arms. 

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’m going to take a few more pictures and we can head back to the car.”

Herbert left me alone to tremble uselessly under my parka. I crouched down, hoping to keep my warmth. The silence settled as my brother’s footsteps echoed further across the ice. I took deep breaths in, my face growing hot and numb from the cold. 

Winter was so deafeningly quiet. I could hear nothing but wind and the echoes of those solemn people who were unfortunate enough to travel through it. The greens of spring, the colors of summer, the fading hues of fall, everything was muted and dull in winter. Instead, it was blinding white. 

I missed the other months. 

Yes, the ice was beautiful. But, I would much more appreciate feeling my toes, my nose, and my fingertips. 

“Alright let’s go you big baby,” Herbert yelled. 

Back in the car, I shoved my hands on the heater and put it on full blast. “Oh thank god for heaters,” I said as the warmth finally started to sink in after the painful tingling faded away. 

My brother chuckled, “But you wouldn’t feel as grateful for them if you didn’t have winter to make you so cold.” I gave him the side eye, but he kept talking. “For real, what’s your favorite season?” 

I rubbed my hands together. “Spring.” 

“Why?” He popped open the thermos and poured me a cup of coffee. 

“Because it means the winter is over and the flowers will come back. I love the smell of the rain and the grass, and the sound of the birds.” I closed my eyes and my hands wrapped around the warm cup. 

“You wouldn’t even notice those things if not for the harsh winters. Just like if you didn’t stand out there for an hour, you wouldn’t notice how great the heater feels.” He took a swig of his coffee. “Life without seasons would be hard. You’d never know how much time was passing and you’d never really care either. A year wouldn’t mean anything, it’d just be time.”

“You got all of that out of some icicles?” I laughed. 

“No,” He downed the rest of the coffee. “I heard it from Dad when I complained about the cold when he brought me here when I was ten.”

I stared out onto the ice-covered lake. “He hated winter.” 

“Yup.” Herbert nodded with a laugh and started the car. “But he understood it.”