More Snow

This is the view outside one of my bedroom windows. By itself, it's pretty. I've always admired the way snow sticks to the bricks. My bedroom looks out into a courtyard surrounded by three brick walls, so there's lots of potential for snow to fluff and stick to the textures, and dance around in the eddies created by the enclosed space. I have often watched this and felt it was beautiful.

But we are receiving, on average, a storm every week. Sometimes we get through a week with only minor precipitation, but then get hit with two or three storms in one week. I'm usually excited by a winter snowstorm- the drama, preparations, the camaraderie of digging out and the school kids' excitement of a snow day are enjoyable. But when it happens over and over again, when it's ice storms or freezing rain on top of the snow, when your city runs out of salt and sand and can't get anymore, when the drain systems are covered in ice and become backed up and there is flooding everywhere- well, then, I find I am growing fatigued. For the first time this winter, I finally dreaded that I would look outside and see snow. And when I did, I felt dismayed.

I know many people regularly feel that way about snow and winter, but it's a new thing for me. It makes me feel old. I never wanted to be the sort of person who would feel so much negativity for something I always enjoyed so much. So, for today, I'm going to pull out fun childhood photos of playing in the snow, I'm going to play great snow music, make a stew or a casserole or some other great winter food, and go out and trudge around in the snow until I feel excited again.