Wow. What an idyllic winter it has been. From a postcard perspective, not from a shoveling or snowblowing perspective. I know that the weather has been making epic displays all over the country, but from our vantage point there seems to be some correlation between living in the country and buckets of snow almost every day. It’s irrational, I know – there are buckets of snow falling almost every day in the very city yard we just moved from. Even so, this winter, being our first here, is setting the standard for all winters to come. It’s setting some sort of rule by which we are slowly getting to know this land: HERE there is lots and lots of snow. And it’s beautiful – as it falls, as it clings to the branches of the trees we can see from every window, as it sparkles like diamonds in the sunlight.
It’s a rather rose-colored approach to this seemingly endless parade of snow storms, I know. But in my not-so-distant memory are all of the winters in the past several years with record high temperatures. Last year there were golf courses open in December because of the lack of snow and spring-like temps. And a few years earlier, a friend’s bachelorette party skiing trip was canceled in Dec. for lack of snow. And a few years before that, we were turned away from the local ice skating rink on Valentine’s Day because all of the ice had melted to slush.
I have to say that this is the first winter in a LONG time that hasn’t made me feel depressed about global warming. Finally we have a winter that’s reminiscent of my childhood winters – chest-high snow drifts that are big enough to tunnel through and regular snow falls and a healthy blanket of snow that lingers all winter long.
Here in Wisconsin, this is what winter is supposed to look like. I take a lot of comfort from that, and feel like maybe things aren’t too far gone…
Blah, blah, blah. I’m still feeling just like everyone else I talk to, though. I’m sick of all of the snow too. Dreaming of warm, sunny beaches with umbrella drinks and all the clichés that go with it. And when, in the very same day, we have no hot water, oven, tv reception, or wood left, I’m at the end of my ropes. Enough already.
But at least that’s how we’re supposed to feel in February.