Thursday, February 27, 2014

Appreciating Apricity

This has been the most amazing winter. Cold. Bone-chilling cold at times. Snow to depths I have not seen in years. It has taken me quite some time to get his article completed. We've had so very little of that which I am writing about. And without the sun, I can't seem to find my inspiration. And you don't need to hear me whine.

I'm looking forward to Spring, which will happen soon enough. In the meantime, I'm apricating as often as the sun allows. Cheers!

Appreciating Apricity

"I'll give you a winter prediction: It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life." ~Phil Connors from the movie Groundhog Day.

Apricity. I loved the word before I totally understood its meaning. It's a short word with a lot of melody and could easily be sung on those days apricity inspires us. As a child my favorite words were "insulated underwear" because I could sing those two words in multiple ways. Like insulated underwear, apricity deserves to be sung; most especially, this time of year as the sun starts to peek above the treetops around my home if even for just a few minutes.

Apricity means "the warmth of the sun in winter," which is a rather simple definition. Yet there is a depth to that definition that other words cannot boast. Apricity conjures up feelings long forgotten until this very time of year. Beyond the intellectual understanding of the word, your senses must be engaged to fully appreciate apricity. You don't know apricity until you feel the cold on your face from subzero winter temperatures and, at the same time, the unbelievably incredible warmth of the sun on that same face. Apricity demands that you cannot feel one without the other.

For me, there's also a smell to apricity. One minute I'm inhaling deeply the smell of bitter cold winter, which is almost no smell at all but nonetheless distinct. Those of us who live in winter and snow and cold, know that smell. And in that very same moment, the sun beating down on an oak tree that has not yet lost its leaves or a dead log or an early patch of dirt, sends to me a whiff of warming leaves, wood and dirt. This too is the contradiction of apricity.

Now before you tell me that you personally appreciate apricity on a beach in Florida in February, for instance, I counter that winter is as much a condition as it is a season. Apricating means you must experience the contradiction of cold and warm at the same time much more than simply experiencing the warmth of the sun in a warm climate during a winter month. Apricity cannot exist in its fullest sense while lying on the beach in January. Unless, of course that shoreline is on a frozen northern lake. Apricity is earned.

Peace and Love