We had some funky weather in New York during the past few days, and the numerous trees on Fordham's campus are currently icy with frozen rain. I suppose this might not be so great for the trees, but they are rather beautiful to look at when the sun shines on them, and, at any rate, it's rather cold out and that makes it particularly nice to have something beautiful to look at.

I'm a quarter Swedish, and, though I've never visited Sweden and speak no Swedish, I suppose that there is a part of my subconscious that's fond of the cold. (Actually, my favorite season is spring, but I don't dislike how you have to go through winter to get there.) I've certainly always liked snow; and I remember once reading a book of Swedish fairy tales in my elementary school and very much enjoying it. I've never seen Disney's Frozen (nor have I read its basis, Hans Christian Andersen's "The Snow Queen"), but I am a bit familiar with Scandinavian fairy tales. (I particularly like "East of the Sun and West of the Moon", a Northern version of "Beauty and the Beast.") I've never been north of the middle of Maine (and in the summer, at that), but I've always been rather enchanted by the thought of the northern part of the world as the domain of winter; when I was little, I loved the parts of The Polar Express that show the train nearing the North Pole.

The choral composer Ēriks Ešenvalds is Latvian, and I wouldn't want to conflate the Baltic countries with Scandinavia, but I do find something particularly stirring in his piece evoking the Northern Lights. I've never seen the aurora borealis, but I supposed I'd like to someday. At any rate, that piece of music swirling around in my head as I see Fordham's frozen trees and wonder what it would be like to speak Swedish brings to mind the beauty of winter as Christmas approaches.