As winter winds continue to blow and the temperature seems determined to drop to below -10 degrees Celsius, I long for spring – to sit out in one of the Adirondack chairs in my front yard, beneath the cherry trees, and just feel the warmth of the sun on my face.
I long to absorb all the wonderful, life-giving rays of that celestial body around which planet Earth revolves – to simply close my eyes and let my thoughts drift.
I dislike winter with all the passion and venom of rattlesnake that has just been stepped on by cogged boots. I don’t like the cold. I don’t like the snow and I don’t like having to go out in the cold and snow.
I’m sorry, but I have absolutely no desire to take part in any sort of winter sport. For the life of me, I do not understand why anyone would want to go ice-fishing – it defies logic.
Why would anyone want to sit for hours staring down at a small round hole cut through the ice, with the ice cracking and creaking all around them, as if waiting some sort of sign from below. I can only speculate as to what would motivate an otherwise relatively sane person to sit there alone.
Critics have suggested that activities such as ice-fishing are a form of anti-social behaviour, while others would speculate that such activities are more akin to a religious experience – spiritual in nature, yet less structured and demanding than the more orthodox forms of religion. It is easy enough to compare ice-fishing to the eastern teachings of Zen.
After all, like the followers of Zen, and unlike those who participate in summertime activities – those who are encumbered by the elaborate trappings of their activities, practitioners of ice-fishing require little in the way of material possessions.
A simple rod and reel with line, a bobber, one or two hooks and a small Styrofoam cup in which to keep live maggots or freeze-dried fluorescent pink shrimp is all that’s required.
While ice-fishers may get some fresh air, there is little in the way of health benefits such as cardiovascular exercise. Although, I’m told this is one of the reasons why people take part in activities such as cross-country skiing.
Who Knows? Perhaps the true essence of things like ice-fishing and cross-country skiing lies more in the existential experience – some sort of philosophical path on a spiritual journey, so to speak. I couldn’t tell you. I don’t ice-fish and I have never gone cross-country skiing.
Nevertheless, the question remains: what primordial instinct prompts a person to subject themselves to the cold for no good reason?
I simply don’t know. I leave such questions to those smarter than myself.
All I know for sure is that springtime seems like such a long way off.
Perhaps I’ll just stay here in my nice warm living room, by the fireplace and read The Collected Works of Robert W. Service.
“There are strange things done in the midnight sunBy the men who moil for gold;The Arctic trails have their secret talesThat would make your blood run cold.”
