The Winter of our Discontent

Whether you know this phrase from the opening line of William Shakespear's Richard III(Now is the winter of our discontent/Made glorious summer by this sun of York)or from the title of John Sieinbeck's last novel written in 1961,it has taken on a more personal meaning for those of us who live in the northeast because of a pesky procession of major snow storms. Is it the result of the El Nino phenomenon, Artic and Antartic ice melting, or simply Mother Nature? The cause of this weather pattern becomes almost less important than finding a way to cope with the recurrent progression of snow, ice and slush. For me,however,this winter took on a more pleasant meaning last night as I walked along an oak and pine tree lined road made white by a recent thick layer of snow. I looked up at the cloudless winter sky; the Hunter,Orion to my left, and a brilliant full moon to my right, revealing to the Hunter and me snow covered trees and ground all around enhanced by moonlight.