We’re expecting snow on Sunday — our first real accumulation in two years. The forecast keeps fluctuating for how much we’re going to get (the current forecast is hovering around four inches, but no one is ruling out a foot, as of yet), but they’ve all agreed snow will stick to the ground in some quantity.
I am excited; I am, after all, a New England girl, and it’s hard to believe winter is here if snow never falls.
Living in a city, the day of snowfall is a magical thing. The number of cars on the road drops significantly (that’s actually what the first couple weeks of the pandemic reminded me of, because of how much traffic was reduced), and it actually gets quiet. Anyone who is afraid of getting wet or freezing stays indoors, leaving the outside world for those who find winter precipitation joyful. And we do flock out, no matter the hour, drawn by the glitter falling from the sky.
Admittedly, the days after snowfall is less joyful, with far too sidewalks shoveled and snow on the side of the road turning yellow and grey by degrees.
But for the first 24 hours, we can hold on to the beauty. And maybe this year, this winter, that’s enough.
I know what you mean about a first snow or a snow after there hasn’t been one for a while. Everything is beautiful because all the ‘ugly’ is covered in a white sheet of snow and sparkles. Once people start walking in it and shoveling it just isn’t the same. And when it is falling it seems to ‘deaden’ sounds so even the sky seems ‘soft’. And as a kid waking to the yellow/orange flash of the plows as they went down the main road near our house was kind of soothing. 🙂
Comment by Helen Mathey-Horn 01.31.21 @ 11:41 pm