Tuesday, January 20, 2009

I Long for Snow

It's difficult to breathe, today. The winter cold has got me. Sore throat, watery eyes, sneezing, coughing, aching. I'm starting to sound like that commercial. I feel insulted by this cold, coming so soon after the crash. Hasn't my body been through enough? I could forgive it, I think, if only we had snow.

That's the trouble with living in Virginia, snow is almost mythical. Because it actually does snow once every few years, it makes this myth compelling. If it never snowed, I could give up and forget about pristine walks through the blanketed silence, my over-sized boots making the first prints on the virgin road. When it is that quiet in the world, my mind takes on an easy peace. I walk and watch the snow flakes fall, drifting unhurried through the skeletal branches, falling toward the rest of their mates waiting quietly on this earth; each flake unique when you catch it in your palm, and study it quickly before it melts away.

When I was little I lived in Colorado. Snow was a given there. We got blizzards, where you risked not making it home if you were even a few miles down the road from where you lived. The light was blinding off that white mass of ground, with a barren bowl of blue sky overhead and without the looming trees to block the glare.

In my new native home, the trees huddle under the white coverlet, a sheltered canopy, adding to the hush of winter. I have friends who live in Michigan and Chicago who will say they would happily give me some of their snowfall to spare their backs, bent from shoveling, and their ice-chapped faces, and their bone-cold way of living through the winters of the North.

Still, I long for snow. No matter what they tell me of hardship, and having to wear too many coats and scarfs, hats, boots, and gloves. There is an angel deep inside me, just waiting for her patch of white, and my willingness to lie down on that plain bedding and allow her to be born.

Through all this winter's cold, I long for snow.

4 comments:

kathryn said...

Hi La! I've been meaning to get over here for some time. I got so much happiness seeing the amazing combinations you made with Six Words. I'm glad you are feeling better, because it's not a pleasure to be sick--although reading your blog makes me feel like it's spring, or will be soon.

Kathryn

lakshmi said...

Hi Kathryn!

You came to visit me in my lair! I'm glad you liked the six-words. They were really fun, though I confess to getting carried away with them. I expect Spring will be here and us without snow for the third year in a row. We're thinking about going somewhere white next year for Christmas to let the kids sled, and make snowmen. I guess my birthplace is still lodged in my bones. I can't shake that love of snow.

See you around!
La

el poquito said...

SNOW!

Yep, we've had lots in Michigan. This year I've been noticing the different sounds of snow - that's how much we've had. There's the muffling of sounds as they land on cushions that absorb the sound; then there's the sounds of the snow itself as it falls heavily; the sounds of snow being walked on, from softened footsteps on warmish snow (32-35 degrees), the crunching sound as you step on colder snow, and the high pitched cracking crunch as you step on bitter cold snow.

Yeah, guess I have more time on my hands than the average bear. Whenever I've talked to anyone about this year's observations on the different sounds of snow in different temperatures, so far everyone looks at me a bit puzzled. Ah well.

I think you might still get some. It's a season of freaky weather. 3 years is a long stretch of same, same, same, especially for these times. I say, get all your winter snow gear out: the giant boots, the hats, mittens, snow play-gear and have it out there all ready to go. Well, you might wanna wait a minute till your feeling all well.

Make ready and the snow just might come.

Hope you get to make your snow angel soon.
-e

lakshmi said...

Ed,

I read your observations about snow with relish. I find it fascinating how snow has different sounds. It is the sound of snow that holds a great appeal for me, that weighted silence, or the tinkling of the ice crystals on the skylights. It's all wonderful. I didn't know how the varying temperatures affect that, though. It's interesting.

I have not given up hope. If there is one thing I have always had going for me, it's optimism!

Take care and stay warm, and feel free to tell me all your odd observations when you get them.
:>
La