I began this post in mid-March but never finished it. Now that we have a July heat wave, I thought these images, and the fragmentary text from winter, might be a welcome break.
We had heavy snow again this weekend, big fluffy stuff on and off all day. I wandered the city, bundled against the cold, and took a few pictures. It’s surprisingly difficult to photograph snow. The flakes fell so fast and thick that I had trouble keeping my eyes open, but in the pictures the flakes seem sparse. Just double or triple the snow you see and you’ll have a better mental image. The snow from February’s blizzard is mostly gone, so this was a fresh coating.
I don’t understand people who see a snowstorm as inconvenient, or a menace. A good blizzard lets us slow down for a few days. We go outside, shovel the driveway, maybe sled or snowshoe, or just look at a landscape transformed. Inside, we bundle beneath blankets and fleece, with steaming tea and a book. How is this so inconvenient?
Even a small snow seems to cleanse the land, and especially a city. The pavement, the buildings and cars, the billboards, lights–all their colors soften, their sharp edges rounded. Everything is a bit quiet. True, the melting aftermath is a dirty mess, and this can linger for weeks, but it’s a small price for the splendor of new snow.Growing up in Connecticut, we routinely lost power from snow. Following the famous blizzard of 1978, it was five or six days before power was restored. We dug tunnels through massive drifts, and at night lit the house with candles. The entire state was closed! This became a bit much, even for someone who enjoys winter. But still I prefer a winter blitz to the doldrums of a heat wave.