It takes a special breed to live in the northern lands we call Minnesota. Cabin fever hits hard in these cold times. Nothing to do, nowhere to go. Cold is all pervasive. It hits hard and gets into the bones, making every joint feel arthritic. The sun reflects blindingly off the blanket of snow that covers everything. To make matters worse it sets around 4:30. Cold, dark, foreboding times!
This is only in the southern half of the state. The northern half is worse!
Temperatures plummet on the frozen shores of Lake Superior. The lake is too big and the waters too fierce for the lake to freeze, but the waters get oppressively cold. The wind whips off the icy shores with the viciousness like a starving and outcast timber wolf.
This is the land in which we live, we Minnesotans, we the offspring of northern European immigrants who sought a place similar to home.

And yet how peaceful it all is! The earth sleeping peacefully under its blanket. The last rays of the setting sun shimmering and twinkling through the ice. The still silence of a sleeping forest devoid of foliage.

Enduring a Minnesota winter is like hitting a reset button on the consciousness. As we see the dying life all around us in late fall, so too does a part of us pass in the depths of winters cold embrace. The summer life we led, the ideas we had, the bustle, the story, comes to and end, and passes into memory. And we wipe the slate clean in our cabin fever induced breakdown. And only when we feel on the brink of collapse, are we ready to enter the brutal heat of the Minnesota summer, and build ourselves up once again.


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