White delight

This might be unpopular, but I have a thing for snow.

And that “thing” is actually a sizable affection for it.

Oh yes, I can hear you now. You, one of those that sneer with contempt and scorn at the mere thought of the icy frozen stuff anywhere within 100 miles of you–let alone having to keep it out of your shoes, drive in it, or, worst of all, shovel it. The thought makes you shiver literally and figuratively.

Here we are, just past (but still quite near) the nadir of our annual temperatures, climatologically-speaking. It’s about as cold as it ever gets right now. And in my area of the world, we are, as of today, just ahead of our wintertime average of snowfall, having received almost none of stuff for the better part of December and January.

Some would call that good luck, or fortune. I am not one of them. I love the stuff.

And now, after 4 more inches has fallen in the past 12 hours–big puffy, fluffy flakes–I am even more delighted.

Perhaps I should explain.

In my eyes, snow makes the world look different. Softer. Both more gentle and otherworldly at the same time. Better.

Snow cover magically absorbs sound, especially freshly fallen snow, so it’s actually quieter outside. Other than snow plows scraping by and snowblowers roaring down the street, it is church quiet with snow on the ground. I love that.

As a kid, I used to imagine everything snow-covered outside was instead covered with powdered sugar. Just pick up a gloveful and give it a lick. Mmm. Can you taste it? We’re pretending here.

And if you picked up yellow snow, that’s your fault.

And although it might feel like it does, snow does not last forever. I will conceded that the season of winter does seem about one month too long in these parts. I, too, get tired of having to shovel it in March. Or having to wear extra layers of outerwear simply to go on a bike ride (yes, I ride in the winter, even in the snow–special bike…). So I do grant that it is harder to deal with snow during a typical winter than not dealing with snow.

Some people want to escape to someplace warmer–and never have to deal with snow again. Have at it.

To me, that sounds terribly boring. I lived in Phoenix, Arizona for two years. And I was bored to tears over the weather there–specifically the lack of precipitation of any kind. But especially snow. From Phoenix, I moved back to the Chicago area. I felt better. A favorite saying of mine: “there’s no inclement weather; merely inappropriate clothing.“

So pile up the snow, Mother Nature. I remember when you socked us with blizzards when I was a child, so much so that we had record-breaking snow totals three years running in the 1970s. Oooh…and snow days! That’s winter to me. Perhaps unpopular, but also delightful.