Winter is getting shorter, which is causing a heartfelt longing for the little ice ages that many places endured between December and March, when the snow crunched like hot bread and the lakes were the color of dark steel.
In When Winters Were Winters (Acantilado) Bernd Brunner investigates the history of this season and summarizes its voluptuousness, such as the enormous pleasure of sliding on skis on a slope of virgin snow or the delight of a hot cup that comforts the scourge of the cold.
Today's winters are nothing like those of previous centuries, since they are now Lilliputian instead of seeming to come from the hand of Gulliver. Overall, the year 2023 was the second warmest in the history of Spain, since at least 1961, when the historical temperature series of the State Meteorological Agency (Aemet) began. In fact, last year there was only one notable cold episode between the end of February and the beginning of March, according to Rubén Campo, Aemet spokesperson.
What makes a winter a winter? Although what we understand by “winter” differs depending on the place, its essence can be found in a sizzling bundle of logs, in the diffuse smell of charcoal and countryside, in the branches of trees covered in ice sheaths, in resting wrapped in a blanket while the snow wipes out the streets or in the formidable delight that comes from taking refuge in a cabin surrounded by a sea of snow.
For this reason, many artists have sought inspiration in the rawest and brownest season of the year, such as painters such as Claude Monet, Caspar David Friedrich, Hendrik Avercamp or Andrew Wyeth, but also musicians such as Tchaikovsky (his ballet The Nutcracker evokes the magic and the beauty of winter), not to mention writers like Henry David Thoreau and his A Winter Walk or François Walter and Hiver. Histoire d’une saison (Winter. History of a season).
In winter “life is more serene and worthy of contemplation,” Thoreau writes in one of his winter walks through the forest in search of the spring of existence: a wild and free world, both for animals and for people. In A Winter's Walk (1843), the author of Walden, life in the woods evokes the presence of the field mouse sleeping in its sheltered underground passage or that of the owl installed in a hollow tree. In fact, Thoreau walked around his house from dawn until the last light of the day: “We heard the noise of the farmers chopping wood in the distance on the frozen ground, the bark of the dog and the bugle of the rooster, despite that the icy and thin air only transports the finest particles of sound to our ears,” notes this nature surveyor.
Although there is nothing like a typical winter, there are great specialists in the field. Arctic Manual, the two-volume book published by the US Air Force in 1940, is a mine of interesting observations, such as that the crescent moon provides more light on a snowy landscape than the full moon in summer .
Even older, the children's activity manual titled The American Boy's Handy Book (1882) not only offers instructions for making the classic snowman, but also an owl or a pig, although for the latter it is necessary to have a pair of strong branches to shape the legs.
For its part, in Norway there are towns in valleys located between high mountains that are in the shade for almost six months a year. A few years ago, in a village called Rjukan, they used mirrors to divert sunlight towards the valley so that children could sunbathe, which was celebrated as a historic event, according to the BBC.
The emotional cartography of winter identifies this season with melancholy. Feeling the icy wind blow into your face or breathing in the form of mist and exhaling white flags in the air usually leads to feeling longing for the long, bright summer days.
In The Invention of the North. History of a cardinal point (Cliff), Bernd Brunner, investigates the fascination that the icy northern lands have had since classical antiquity. But… where does the north begin? The north begins where the south ends. Now, is there such a thing as a border? According to Brunner, “Northern Europe” is sometimes presented as the equivalent of Scandinavia. However, “the north” has been a flexible category throughout history.
For many Spaniards, the north begins in the Pyrenees, although for Mexicans it is the United States, while Americans place it in Toronto (despite the fact that this city is located at the same degree of latitude as Boston). In view of this, it is worth asking: beyond the geographical point where north supposedly begins, what does this cardinal point imply?
The word north has Indo-Germanic roots and means “to the left of sunrise.” It is usually associated with ice, fog, cold, snow and darkness. But, in reality, this season can also be identified with the caress of the winter sun that Antonio Machado captured in a poem, with virgin nature, the northern lights and unexplored territories. We are talking, then, about the soul of a season that in the midst of climate change is even more beautiful, despite its rigors, although in recent years it has been presented in small portions, as is the case with delicacies.
In winter, the days get shorter and the light, although dim, transforms into a rare and precious treasure. From the end of December to mid-March, in many towns the fireplace becomes the heart of the home, weaving stories and causing laughter to resonate like fleeting sparks. And the fact is that, although winter is now less impetuous due to the global upheaval that the planet is experiencing, it still preserves in its heart the eternal essence of the season that was.
