How do you feel about the white stuff? Is it the grand majesty of nature or a cruel joke perpetrated by prevailing winds and an uncaring sun?
Love it! I am definitely a four season rogue. My favorite are the first snows of the year, when the world closes in and the snow falls softly with the promise of powder-ski days to come.
This is a picture of two young mule deer in the side yard following a snow storm in Evergreen.
After living decades in Southern California, you can imagine my trepidation moving to the wilds of Maine where there are actual seasons, including (gulp) winter. Cold! Snow! Ice!
I was not disappointed — our first winter, the snow rose six feet high. Our house was at the end of a quarter-mile long driveway. The snow narrowed the driveway so much the propane truck got stuck and had to back out. No propane! We phoned our plow guy. He was in Florida, soaking up cancer-causing rays, and happy to tell us about the pristine beaches and gloriously sunny days there. When we forgave him, he told us about his on-call Maine friend, who brought his heavy pickup with huge plow blade that widened our driveway. Electricity, heat, and wifi returned. Warm sigh of relief.
But my happiest adventure that first winter was discovering snow shoeing. John taught me, and after many falls (snow is soft), I was in love with it. There’s nothing quite like slipping into the cathedral beauty of a snowy woods. Shimmering whiteness cloaks bushes and trees, and the silence is serene. If you stand beneath a hemlock branch mounded with snow, you might get lucky and a gentle exhalation of wind will swhirl snowflakes past your face. Now you know why every winter we wait eagerly for the first sizable snowfall. My cheeks are tingling, and I’m smiling just thinking about it.
Having grown up in a suburb of Chicago, I lived through falling snow which was “pretty” only the first day. Then we had to contend with ice and slush that clogged the streets and finally “dirty snow” that piled up until someone shoveled it…which was quite a chore. Also, I was cold ALL the time! Now, I love spending winters in Florida where I can swim laps every single day! In fact, I haven’t been anywhere near snow for the last 20 years – how absolutely delightful.
|An Ohio winter
Though I’ve lived in Florida for 20 years, I still love snow, the magic of walking out into a monochrome universe. The silence of those gently falling flakes makes me feel utterly alone without being the least bit lonely. There are few moments as peaceful.
What I don’t like about it? Slush. Not silent, not peaceful, not clean and liquid, so that instead of crunching ever so quietly under your shoes it floods up and slips inside to freeze your toes and make your socks a sodden mess for the rest of the day. There’s nothing good to be said about slush.
But snow, I like.
The word snow fills me with dread. Probably because from the time I was little I remember my mother being terrified of driving in it. No matter how dreary the weather, her refrain was always “at least it’s not snowing.” Living in New England, snow is something I’ve gotten used to and while I can’t argue that it’s beautiful to look at, I always first look at snow as an obstacle to plans and travel.
Snow or not??? Hmmm, I’m convinced that at birth I was switched with a Caribbean baby, and I’ve been trying to find my way home ever since. My ideal vacation is a beach getaway—whether it is in the South Pacific, the Caribbean, or another island paradise, the turquoise waters and white sand are what makes this escaping Canadian happy. I’m delighted to leave the other white stuff for everyone else!
What I like about it: Cross country skiing along the lake in Chicago-most use the Waveland Golf Course there. The air is cold, sun is out and the lake covered in ice and shimmering. Perfect!
I love snow. No doubt because I live in the Central Valley of California at sea level. No snow here, though occasionally we’ll get a hail storm that will blanket the streets, lawn and garden. It is (if you’ll excuse the weak pun) the “polar opposite” of a snow storm that muffles the sounds in peaceful silence. The hail storms pound on the roof, pavement and cars, but in the end, you have the illusion of snow, and can pretend for the few short minutes before the hail melts into oblivion, that you live in a wondrous snowy place.