An Open Letter to Mother Nature


By Caroline Wittenberg
Illustration by Christina Scheppmann

Mother Nature

I thought we had a deal.

When we last spoke in October, you gave me your word. Is this what it feels like to be stabbed in the back? Because, if so, I don’t want your friendship. Really, I don’t need it.

You’re sneaky and you’re deceitful. No, you’re tacky and I hate you! Actually… you’re a bit of a horse’s ass.

I mean, I’ve got Father Time, and honestly, what’s more important – time or weather? At least with each tick of the clock, we are one step closer to the end of your cruel winter.

This might be a little awkward, but I have a very personal question for you: is this premenstrual rage? It’s cool, you can tell me. I guess I’d just like to know if I’m in the midst of a five month stretch of moodiness and girl problems. I would feel sorry for you, and, like offer you some chocolate or boxed red wine but, remember that one time that you threw a bunch of snow and frigid, freezing temperatures and just straight up sub-zero humiliation at me? I do! I’ll never forget it – because, unlike some people I know (and I really don’t want to name names) – I’m actually loyal to my friends and my word.

Do you really think snow boots are attractive? Am I supposed to be making some big fashion statement? And what’s with this whole “mother” thing? Because, a) it’s a little weird and b) it’s quite a load of crap – a monstrous chunk of wet, icy, cold, white crap. Us wretched mortals like to call it snow.

So, in any case, here’s what I propose. I don’t like making deals with the devil – I’ve done it once before (cough cough October) and got screwed, but frankly, I’m desperate, and I’m out of options. You can give us all the polar vortexing you want, for as long as you want, but in exchange, I want one blissfully long, warm, and overall pleasant summer.

I want loads upon heaping loads of glorious sunshine. Obviously, rain has to occur – I mean, I’m all about the environment, and flowers, and grass. And hey, I’m a reasonable person. I’ll allow wind once in a while too, but that’s it. I know you and Lake Michigan are tight, but none of this lake-effect-chill nonsense.

Now, I haven’t cleared this with the rest of the general public yet and to be honest, I only really care about Wisconsin at this point, but if you agree to this, I’ll make sure no one gives you any trouble.

You suck. JK, JK, I love you!


But seriously, think about it.


Caroline Marion Wittenberg