“A cold
wind was blowing from the north,
and it
made the trees rustle like living things.”
(George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones)
“The
first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed
in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is
not enchantment then where is it to be found?”
(JB
Priestley)
“A lot
of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.”
(Carl
Reiner)
Anticipation. It is in the air as the National Weather
Service has forecast a winter storm warning for most of Montana for the next
two days as an arctic front from Canada makes its way south bring snow, ice,
wind, and sub-zero temperatures to Big Sky country. The predictions are for up to eight inches of
snow with temperatures and wind chills below zero . . . it is going to be
cold! Who blames the arctic front for
not wanting to head south and a warmer climate?
I just wish it would take a different route on the way to Arizona or Texas
or wherever it is heading for the winter.
It is kind of apocalyptic in how
people approach the first snow storm of the year . . . end of the world
stuff. There is a rush to the local
grocery store to stock up on the necessary staples of survival . . . lots of
milk, bread, and beer. It seems that the
consumption of these staples goes up when a winter storm is in the area. The sales of snow shovels and snow blowers
will peak and shortages will be declared . . . it is as if people forget that
winter comes every year to Montana . . . every year! They batten down the house . . . close the
storm windows . . . replace the filters in the furnace . . . pull out all the
quilts and comforters . . . search for their long underwear . . . and hope that
they remembered to pay the utility bill.
Life as everyone knows it is about to change . . . nothing will ever be
the same . . . the end is near. The end
of autumn, that is. For some folks this
is the saddest and most depressing annual transition of the year . . . from
autumn to winter.
It is apocalyptic in that its coming
is prophesized daily in the newspaper . . . it is stated by the talking
prophets—I mean forecasters—on the radio and television . . . and, it is felt
in the bones of the Mr. Smith down the street who swears by his arthritis that
the cold and snow is coming. In the
prophecies that are shared they start out with caution and build to apocalyptic
warnings that the end is near . . . the prophets—the forecasters—have fine-tuned
the anticipation . . . the frenzy waits for the first snowflake to tip the
scale and upset the balance.
I’m lousy when it comes to
anticipation. I am one of those who
embrace the apocalyptic vision of the local forecasters as they preach the
gloom and doom of approaching winter storms.
I am one of those who sees the worst whenever there is mention of
freezing temperatures, snow, and ice in the evening forecast. I am a winter wimp. My winter wimp reputation is famous among
family and friends . . . the source of much ribbing between November and late
March. The first word of wintry weather
and my mind slides into anxiousness . . . slides into the world of winter
wimpdom . . . slides into a fear of having to get out into the weather . . .
the snowy, icy weather. I’d rather go to
the dentist for a root canal than brave the winter weather when it has reached
it apocalyptic proportions.
Confession is good for the soul. I confess that I have not yet mastered
driving on snow and ice at 90 miles per hour . . . at least not without six
inch studs and snow chains on my tires.
I have not yet learned how to appreciate scraping my windshield and
windows in a blinding snow storm only to have to turn around and do it again
before I have even finished. I have not
yet learned how not to panic when a semi-truck passing by spewing snow and ice
and rocks because it cannot appreciate my cautious driving at 25 miles per
hour. I have not come to appreciate my
car’s tired freezing to the pavement. I
have not come to appreciate making a right-hand turn only to end up making a
left-hand turn across two lanes of traffic because there is ice on the road. I have come to appreciate seeing my breath
inside my car despite having the heater set on high and blasting away . . . it
is no fun having to scrape the inside of the windshield. I have come to appreciate the windshield
cracking when the warm air from the car’s heater hits the glass activating
every window pit into the Etch-a-Sketch
mode. I have not come to appreciate how
the wintry weather makes my heart race . . . makes my blood pressure rise . . .
and, makes me grumpy. Yeah, confession
is good for the soul, but the longer I think about it the more anxious it makes
me.
I guess I should be appreciative of
these apocalyptic weather events. I have
learned to be more colorful in my language to describe other drivers and the weather
. . . if four-letter descriptive words count.
My sign language has gotten better.
I have learned how to walk with sixteen layers of clothes encasing my
body . . . I have the perfect mummy walk during the winter.
The fact is . . . that the truth about
the weather, at least the weather forecast . . . is always between here and
there. It rarely comes out exactly the
way that the prophets, I mean forecasters, prophesize it . . . no, it is
usually better or worse. But, it is all
a matter of perspective and my perspective is lousy . . . you see an inch of
snow, I see a foot. You see wet roads, I
see two-inch thick ice coating the road.
As I stated, I have embrace the apocalyptic spirit of winter . . . the
end is near . . . the snow is coming.
But, I could appreciate winter if we
would all just relax and enjoy it.
Instead of rushing out to get from here to there, we should do what it
is intended to do . . . stay home, drink hot chocolate with Schnapps, while reading a good book or
listening to some great music or watching a classic movie. My mother always thought of winter as the
season of slowing down, regrouping, and contemplating life . . . as a time of
respite. She was a wise woman. When I have the ability to stay home and stay
out of the wintry weather, I really like it.
I really do. It is almost like
being on a retreat. It is a time to be
still and know . . . know one’s self and know one’s God.
The anticipation is in the air. As I write this it is raining, the
temperature is dropping, and the snow is just waiting for its curtain call to
make its entrance. We missed an earlier
storm a few weeks ago, but this one is on track. A forecast of eight inches of snow . . .
temperatures dropping to the single digits, if not below zero . . . blustery
winds definitely dipping the thermometer below the zero . . . ice . . . and,
possibly near blizzard conditions.
Apocalyptic in nature. The snow
is coming! But, I am ready. I have the next two days off . . . I have
made my run to the grocery store and gotten my beer frig restocked, the Schnapps refilled, and found my long
underwear. I have nowhere to go for two
days . . . let it snow. I just hope the
snowplows have the roads cleared by the time I have to go back to work on
Wednesday . . . if not, well . . . if not, I might run out of beer. If that happens it might as well be the end
of the world!
Let it snow!
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