Yes, So It's Winter - Yet Again...

Oh, the joys of Winter! I remember at one point before retirement, indeed, even before 2010, I sat on a low wall on a particularly cold day. The ladders lay on the sidewalk, the bucket of warm water also stood nearby. There I sat, shivering with cold, yet a strong sense of envy was eating me up and draining my energy from work. And it was only ten in the morning.

That's the advantage of having been a self-employed domestic window cleaner. Under my own steam, I can just sit there and indulge in my own despot of envy, allowing vivid images of the check-in desk at Heathrow Airport, and visualising four people preparing to board their flight to Singapore. As I sat there alone, at least for once I was grateful for not sitting in a busy office under the eye of a controlling bully of a boss. Instead, as it was, I was able to sit alone at a quiet housing estate, mulling at my thoughts and comparing the expectations of these four, consisting of two courting couples, with my own past experiences of world travel.

Window Cleaning, my former trade.

The two young men I knew personally. They were lifeguards of a local leisure pool in which features the spa suite, a facility I visited regularly every week, and my patronage there going as far back as 1992. One of them, Adam by name, was so proficient and so well skilled at his job, that he featured in our local newspaper, The Bracknell News. as the centre's best ever lifeguard. It was he, along with another mate and their girlfriends, who quit his job as a lifeguard to take a sabbatical Round-the-World backpacking trip featuring Singapore, Australia, New Zealand, and the USA.

Weeks of buildup led to that day, with Adam and I being friends on Facebook, I was able to post my own RTW experiences on the social site. But as I sat there mulling over my thoughts, I was wondering how sensitive some people could be. Here was a proficient lifeguard whose knowledge on lifesaving wasn't far below that of a paramedic, when he got offended with my jokey comment that the Sea Wasp is a jellyfish and not an insect. 

As a result, he quickly severed his ties with me, or "unfriended" me, and it has always remained a mystery to me how I had offended him. However, he did deliver some public posts informing us all that although he loved the Australian Pacific Coast, he wasn't impressed with New Zealand. As for the Great Barrier Reef, I can't recall any mention of it. Had his awareness of the Sea Wasp stung his usual confidence in the water? And to add to this, my realisation that Queensland during its summer months is subject to monsoons. Bah! No matter how hard I tried to shake off my envy of them by thinking about these things, I could still feel it.

Eventually, I got around the situation, got up and resumed work. Coming to think of it, the expenditure of physical energy cleaning windows is psychologically benefiting as well as keeping blood flowing through the muscles and creating body heat, a good combatant against cold weather. The Sea Wasp, better known as box jellyfish with their deadly sting, are in abundance at that time of the year. However, it's their inclusion of New Zealand basking in summer sunshine that has aroused my envy, with the salt of unfriending me just before take-off, adding to the wound.

On that particular day, I was working at an estate which has a high number of senior citizens. Throughout my business, I saw that pensioners made the best customers. I had found them to be more warm-hearted towards this lone itinerant tradesman, more generous with coffee and a biscuit, in addition, they were more trusting when allowing me into their kitchens to refill my pail, and they were never hesitant with payment or unnecessarily delaying to pay me. A few even got me to sit at their table after all their windows were cleaned, for coffee, a sandwich and a good chat. With such a friendly environment they gave me, it didn't take long for me to forget about those boys flying halfway around the world.

But working outdoors during winter was challenging. There was one street where nearly all its residents were at work, leaving each property empty of people, although an occasional dog barked. During the summer or when the air was mild, I was okay with that. But I recall one bitterly-cold Winter's day. With everyone out, I served one empty property after another. There was no source of fresh hot water. Indeed, I felt my hands turn blue with the cold as I kept on dipping them in cold, dirty water. I recall then packing everything away and going home early, during mid-afternoon. A refill with hot, clean water would have made all the difference!

And now, I read in a national newspaper that there is such thing as the most depressing day of the year, and it's either a Monday or a Tuesday in early January. I never heard of that before. I wonder where they got that from? However, perhaps the thought of the next quarter of long nights, short days, cold weather, the threat of a thin layer of snow bringing the country to a halt...

If that didn't have such an impact on our lives, I guess I would see the funny side. If the Council - heaven forbid - should forget to grit the roads beforehand or have not watched the Met Office forecast, then the chaos resulting when roads and their intersections turn into skid pans... hardly worth thinking about. Furthermore, trains were known to become marooned and even aeroplanes may not be able to take off. The fear or concern generated by the threat of a snowflake falling makes any anticipation for Spring more intense, along with catching flu or even a common cold, those dark days, long nights and the chilly wind from the Northeast - they all come around, year in, year out, but with the universal surprise it brings, I sometimes wonder whether it's the first time I realise that this cold season is annual.

Coral Reef Sauna Suite, my haunt since 1992.

Perhaps, it's since during Winter here in the UK, it's not every day that I open the bedroom curtains first thing in the morning to see a layer of falling snow covering our garden lawn, and lining the branches of the surrounding trees and bushes spectacularly. Yet, despite all the inconveniences posed upon modern transportation, such a wintry scene is so beautiful, so spectacular. The brilliance of the snow reflecting all the daylight back into the air makes even the contrast with the dull, overcast sky quite notable. Should the sky clear and the sun comes out, then how dazzling the scene is when romanticised into Christmas card fantasy.

And so I ponder at the mode of transport before the invention of the steam engine when horses ruled the day. These mammals were not afraid of the snow, they were able to pull the cart as easily as any Summer's day. No wheels were spinning on an icy patch while the vehicle remains stationary with the engine revving, filling the air behind it with a cloud of toxic fumes. There were no traffic queues stuck on the motorway with drivers phoning their bosses with an apology and a lame explanation why they will be late - if ever arriving at all. No, the guy sitting in a horsedrawn chariot overtakes them all as his beast trots happily along with the snow, leaving a trail of hoof-marks and cartwheel tracks behind.

Yet, from my bedroom window, I can admire the view of the snow-covered garden and ponder on why this stuff is so brilliantly white while any rainwater forming a puddle on concrete or on anything non-porous is as clear as crystal. Indeed, anyone who is good scientific knowledge can explain how water, when it freezes into accumulated snowflakes turns the whole scene brilliant white rather than remaining clear, yet even science can fail to explain why this happens, the beauty of each flake as it falls to the ground, each flake unique in itself, every one different - despite the vast numbers of them needed to cover a large field.

All this causes me to thank and glorify God for his creation rather than curse my fate at the steering wheel. Not that I can drive anyway - I have never owned a car driving licence, let alone a car itself. But as the snow on the road turns into dirty slush by a combination of partial melting and traffic pollution, I can't help but to wish away everything frozen, except ice cream of course, and long for Spring to arrive. After all, one of the positives to ponder on during this cold season is that the winter solstice is already behind us and the days are already becoming longer and the nights shorter. Furthermore, the Earth is at its perihelion, that is, it's closer to the sun in its orbit. No wonder Down Under, the Aussies has to apply a liberal amount of suncream on their bronzed torsos, else that dreaded mole will start burying into the skin, indicating Melanoma.

And so, another Winter's day arrives and with it, The Daily Mail national newspaper carries a story on two of its inside pages:

£44m Brexit success story to make Remoaners choke on their sea bass.*

The two-page article was written by journalist Robert Hardman in his How I see it series of articles. Checking on the text itself, Hardman himself does not use the word Remoaners, but Remainers. As far as the mechanics of the Press goes, the writer doesn't title his contribution. Rather, that's done by the editors. That is, by the newspaper itself. Indeed, I'm tempted to ask them, Is the Winter chill addling your brains?

As one who voted my support to remain in the European Union, the use of the word Remoaner in 2cm high lettering is an insult. I find it insulting because the word is purely detrimental. Furthermore, this isn't merely between two people talking in private. Rather, it's for the whole world to read.

And so, as the cold winter wind blows and blizzards are driven across the UK, those who voted to leave the EU will, sooner or later, find something to prove their point. And when one item is found, so the gloating begins. They look down on us Remainers with a condescending look as they turn up their noses, and if that's not enough, they then publicly insult us! Not a nice Christian attitude, is it? I wonder how Jesus would have reacted had he been around at present?

Earlier in the week, I emailed a message to two Christian people with a suggestion that an unclean spirit in the air has influenced Brexiteers with such subtlety, according to Ephesians 6:12, that even committed Christians who want to serve the Lord were also hoodwinked. With one of the recipients, that didn't go down well. But then, when I emailed those two, the headline hadn't yet appeared. 

Traffic slowed down by snow.

In an analogical sense, with the pandemic, lockdowns, hospitalisations, along with xenophobic, even racist attitudes, including physical and verbal violence, thus driving many Europeans back to their homelands, indeed, it's been a bleak winter - one that lasted for the past two years.

If we're about to go over the hill with the pandemic, at least there is, at last, hope that Spring is on its way.

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*Daily Mail Newspaper, Saturday, January 8th 2022, pages 50-51.