Posted tagged ‘snow and more snow’

“Winter is not a season, it’s an occupation.”

March 6, 2015

When I opened the front door, my eyes were blinded by the sunlight glinting like strewn diamonds on the foot of snow in my yard. The world is bright and sunny and oh so white. The Cape got hammered yesterday, more than anywhere else in the state. The only no school announcements were for Cape schools. This morning they have a two-hour delay. I am, for the meantime, stuck in my house until Skip comes. The paper is somewhere in the snow. I think I saw its drop point. Yesterday’s mail is still in the box across the street. Gracie jumped over the two steps outside the backdoor as she can’t see them but did go down the flight of stairs to the yard. She won’t use her dog door. The snow is too high on the top step. She scratched the door to come inside the house. I think it is the first time she’s ever done that.

I heard a noise out front and went to check. It was Skip. I have been freed. He just finished shoveling and plowing. I then threw de-icer on the back steps and stairs and on the front walk. My car is clear of snow and frost so I can hit the road after I finish here. Knowing I can go about my business makes having snow a bit more bearable, but only a bit. This last storm has taken away any forbearance for winter.

Today is cold, 24˚ cold, though there are drips as the direct sun is strong enough to melt the thin layer of snow on the roof but nowhere else is dripping or melting. We even had ice and snow on the roads and in our yards from the last two storms. The mound in front of my house will be there until May.

We turn the clocks ahead this weekend and March 20th is the first day of spring, but that doesn’t really mean spring. Between now and next Friday only one day will reach as high as 40˚. Winter stays holds sway, and I hate winter this year.

“Things have their time, even eminence bows to timeliness.”

March 13, 2014

Yesterday Gracie and I went to the dump then we went for a ride. It was sunny and warm and a perfect day to wander. It was even 51˚, a gift of sorts. Last night it poured. I could hear the rain pounding the roof as I fell asleep. When I woke up, it wasn’t raining anymore. It was snowing and it’s still snowing. The lawn has disappeared. The tops of branches are covered in white. Mother Nature is not that sweet old lady who turns the world beautiful with one swish of her wand. She is, instead, the witch with the poisoned apple knocking on Cinderella’s door. Winter continues.

I don’t remember how old I was when the changing seasons made a difference. When I was a kid, they came and went and I just followed along. I liked all of them for different reasons. Summer was easy: no school and day after day of playing or bike riding all over town. Fall was back to school, but I don’t remember minding all that much. I liked school. Fall also meant yellow and red leaves all along the sidewalk on the walk to school. The days were still jacket warm. Winter was the most difficult of all seasons. We hurried to school most winter mornings. The wind was sometimes so cold my nose froze. Maybe not really but it felt that way. I’d get to school, and my feet would tingle as they got warmer. My hands stayed cold for a long while. I wasn’t thrilled with that side of winter, but then it would snow, and I loved snow. I’d watch the flakes fall and hope for so much snow everything would be covered, including the hill for sledding. I’d be outside so long I think my lips turned blue, but I didn’t notice. I’d keep going up the hill for another slide down. Usually my mother called a halt to the day. She wanted us in to get warm. I think winter taught me perspective. I could smell spring coming. The air had the rich scent of dirt, of gardens turned. The mornings were chilly but the afternoons were warm. The trees had buds which became light green leaves which would unfurl into deeper green leaves. I think the sun shined every day.

I know spring will come, but that doesn’t make me any less impatient for winter to be gone. I am so tired of the cold and the snow.  I groaned this morning when I looked out the window.