I Was Thinking... Winter sounds

Poets and artists have written about or painted scenes of wintery splendor forever. We have a photograph of a beautiful winter setting captured by a local photographer of a snow-covered bridge. A print by Ron Hunt of an old farm located along a snowy road hangs in our living room.

With my limited photographic skills, I’ve even attempted to portray winter’s majesty when snow adorns tree branches like a Currier and Ives card. These visual depictions of winter’s beauty help us to appreciate and survive the long months of white and cold.

But if you have actually lived in a northern environment in the winter, you know there are also sounds that accompany the season.

Winter sounds are definitely different from those of summer. When you jump into your car in the summer you just turn the key and go. But if you have lived in Minnesota or Wisconsin in the dead of winter and had a car that sat out in the cold all night, you know the sound of a car attempting to come to life is different. Usually, a little prayer is given before the key is turned. The low groaning sound of an engine trying to turn over is something you always remember.

Even a worse sound is that ticking sound or no sound at all. You know then your day is not off to a good start.

For several years our cars sat out in the elements. But for the most part they started, and I got to work. But another winter sound also accompanied that morning ritual. While the car was warming up, the sound of scraping windshields was heard all around. There is nothing as bone chilling as the sound of scraping of the ice or frost from the windows of your car.

Many mornings I was on the way to work before the plows had fully cleared all the roads. As you backed out and attempted to maneuver through what nature had deposited overnight, you hoped not to hear the unmistakable sound of spinning tires. A skillful driver had to learn just how much acceleration was needed to move ahead and yet not spin.

Even on one of those beautiful silent mornings when a fresh layer of snow blankets everything, familiar sounds soon follow. For years, the sound I created was that of a metal shovel scraping along a concrete driveway. Later I was able to mechanize, and that sound was replaced with that of a snow blower. But a more unpleasant sound was the cranking and cranking of the snow blower engine with no positive results. Even if you did get your driveway cleared of nature’s recent deposit, you hoped you could get out before you heard the low groan of a road grader coming down the street to deposit yet another load of thicker and heavier snow right back into the driveway.

Eskimos are said to have many different words for snow. If you have ever shoveled snow, you know there are different kinds as well. But what about the sounds of snow. Some snow makes no noise, it simply flies by. But recently after I stepped out of my truck and walked across a yet to be plowed parking lot, I could hear the snow. At very low temperatures it has a uniquely eerie, bone chilling, squeaky sound. It seems to say, don’t stay out here too long.

I’ve often huddled before the fireplace, trying to avoid the other ominous sound of winter. That is the winds of a blizzard. They are different from the wind accompanying a thunderstorm in the summer. They have a distinctive mournful sound that can suck not only the heat from a person but their soul as well.

But when circumstances force you to face the worst of winter, most of us step out as all Minnesotans do and involuntary utter another sound of winter. Brrrrrrrrrrr.

Did You Ever Wonder? — Why do they say that you have a cold if your temperature goes up?

Photo: I was thinking Ron Albright