Deep Freeze

Winter was late to the party but she made quite the entrance. The mild temperatures in mid-January had me already thinking of spring. Then last week it got cold. I mean really cold. I forgot that the world could feel this cold. I really have no right to complain when I have a cousin braving another Alaskan winter and other parts of Europe are immobilized by blankets of snow. But I am in the Netherlands and that means one huge difference- biking.

It’s how I get places. To school 3 times a week. To language coach appointments. To visit friends. To Zumba classes. Although, I have to admit that I can’t play the martyr too much. My bus pass has seen a lot of action this past week. Here’s why. The winter we’ve had the last two weeks hasn’t been the normal 30-40 degree weather. We’re talking in the teens and under.

The world and the air literally freeze at those temperatures. The other day I went to Dutch class and I was awesome on the bike. I was going so fast that I was using the highest gear, I got to school early, and I enjoyed the ride. I chalked it up to my strong legs because I had actually made it to the gym before leaving for school (for some reason, I can never find the time in the 4 ½ hours from when I wake up until I go to class to visit the gym that is literally right around the corner from my house.) On the way home was a completely different story. I lowered my gears considerably, cursed quite audibly, took longer to get home, and was completely wiped by the time I made it. It turns out I was super fast going to class because the wind was pushing me and it was against me on the way home. I didn’t even know it was windy because it was so cold the wind was frozen. Nothing blew across the street and trees were not swaying in the wind. You only experienced the wind by moving in it. Moving against frozen wind is an experience I don’t wish for anyone.

When there isn’t frozen wind, the bitterness is there to remind you of pain and cold. Despite bundling up with scarves, hats, and thick gloves that don’t allow me to bend my fingers the cold finds me. The tiny patch of neck that got accidently exposed when I adjusted a slightly choking scarf, the bottom tips of my earlobes that are exposed because my hat inevitable travels upwards on my head into a cone (I don’t know if my head is shaped weirdly or if friction with my hair causes it but my hat will not stay down), and the entirety of my face that in warmer winter weather only felt like a perpetual ice cream headache, are completely and painfully numb by the time I reach even the closest destination. Tears stream out of my eyes and everything in my nose freezes and only defrosts (quite quickly) when I enter a heated room. My lungs both burn and feel like frozen blocks in my chest. In general, I would say the entirety of the experience sucks.

As children we romanticize winter. We are excited for snow because that means no school, making snowmen, sledding, and general coziness at home. As an adult you realize that winter is not so idyllic. It is cold, uncomfortable, and inconvenient.  Winter is bitter.  I have to admit that it’s also beautiful (especially if not only during the holidays). It snowed last week and I enjoyed watching the thick fluffy flakes float down for several hours. I, of course, did all this on my couch under a thick knitted blanket with a cup of hot tea. 

Despite trying to live the life of a hermit during snowy weather, I did feel guilty about staying inside all day and we went for a short walk in the park.

You can't tell from here but over yonder is a Dutch "hill" and families were out sledding. 

I really did enjoy watching the snow fall so I immortalized it on film (from inside of course).