I've reached a point in my life where I am no longer fond of Winter. Thirty years ago, even twenty years ago, I would revel in the dark, cold, snowy days of Winter. Involved in activities with my three children which included spending quite a few hours outside, even during the Winter months, I found the time spent out in the wind and blowing snow invigorating. It gave me renewal of life. It increased my energy. It was fun.

Not so any longer. My old bones feel the cold now. My muscles, instead of feeling relaxed, cramp up at the first hint of cold. Although I can put on enough clothing to keep warm, I no longer feel energized by the cold air or the falling snow. In fact, I sometimes think I need to crawl off in a cave like the bears and hibernate until Spring. Some mornings, I actually attempt to do that very thing. But, alas, there remains too many things that need to be done on a regular basis to allow me that "pleasure." So, after pushing the "snooze alarm button" on the old clock radio ten consecutive times, I finally have to give in and crawl out of bed to get cleaned up and face the day.

You know what? After all that fuss, and all the mental complaining, I still get some enjoyment out of "getting active out in the snow." Every time it snows I must clean out my driveway in order to safely venture out. Since I don't usually have to go very far, and have no time limit for getting there, I take my time shoving the snow around. If it is a light, fluffy snow, I will grab the old utility broom and sweep the snow away. If it's a wet, heavy snow, I will usually first clean out a path down to the foot of the driveway so I may retrieve the morning paper from its depository; then I take it in the house, and over a hot cup of coffee and a very warm bowl of oatmeal, I leisurely read the paper. Then I return to the job at hand: beating "Mother Nature" in an game of "earth dusting/undusting." I like to think that in my slow, but steady persistence, I, like the tortoise in the story of the Tortoise and the Hare, win the game. "Mother Nature" may make it necessary for me to repeat my "undusting" more than once before the game is over, but in the end, I do have a lawn full of snow and a clear driveway.

So, maybe I'm not really ready to go crawl off into a cave. Though pushing all that snow around sometimes make my muscles ache more than I like, the exercise is still invigorating. Though my body may be tired, I feel a sense of accomplishment in "besting Mother Nature." And it WAS fun, after all!