I was taking it all in stride. I really was. This twice-weekly snowstorm pattern that has developed this winter. But now I suspect I’m suffering from “snow fatigue”. Many New Yorkers are I think. The weather forecast predicts 6 – 12 inches of snow and we’re like, “MORE snow???? Not again!!!” :eek:
But like anything else, winter snow has its good and bad qualities and produces a variety of experiences and reactions. Allow me to share some of my personal snow-related anecdotes over the past few days.
Nice snow anecdote number 1: I looked out my bedroom window the morning after snow fell overnight. It was, in a word, beautiful. Pure white, totally fresh, fluffy, powdery, lightweight, accumulated along branches and twigs and everywhere. I watched a little bird as it attempted to alight on a snow-covered twig. It flitted around, trying to find the perching surface. Eventually it knocked off the snow and found its footing. It chirps. It’s happy. It’s a happy bird in spite of the snow inconvenience. It goes about its regular business of looking for food, surviving, just being a backyard bird in Queens. Birds rock.
Bad snow anecdote number 1: I discovered that a ton of accumulated snow slid off my roof like an avalanche and crashed to the ground, its weight breaking off four feet of the rain gutter AND a piece of roof slate in the process. The remaining broken and bent remnant of gutter sticks out from the house at a fucked-up looking 90% angle. Ugly and awful. Spring home repair, and it’s accompanying nuisance and costs, awaits. Oh joy.
Snow Effect With Setting Sun, 1875, by Claude Monet:
Nice snow anecdote number 2: Amazing icicles along the windowpanes! They put on quite a dazzling show with their crystal-like clarity and shape formations. A winter exclusive. Take that, summer!
Bad snow anecdote number 2: One word – SHOVELING
Morning Sunlight on the Snow, Eragny-Sur-Epte, Camille Pissarro, 1895:
Nice snow anecdote number 3: I enjoy a fun afternoon taking pictures of children sledding in the park.
Bad snow anecdote number 3: Cancelled art modeling jobs :sad:
A Morning Snow, by George Bellows:
The Snow Storm by Edna St. Vincent Millay
No hawk hangs over in this air:
The urgent snow is everywhere.
The wing adroiter than a sail
Must lean away from such a gale,
Abandoning its straight intent,
Or else expose tough ligament
And tender flesh to what before
Meant dampened feathers, nothing more.
Forceless upon our backs there fall
Infrequent flakes hexagonal,
Devised in many a curious style
To charm our safety for a while,
Where close to earth like mice we go
Under the horizontal snow.