50 words for snow

     Winter, we hardly knew ye. And now it’s March and winter should be winding down, losing steam, whimpering out. Instead, thanks to the wacky weather pattern of 2019, winter seems like it’s only just begun.

     There’s no doubt that our climate has changed. And it seems we New Englander’s have changed as well. I grew up here. I remember when snow blanketed the ground in November, and the sidewalks remained covered right up until the February thaw, when it finally got warm enough to unzip our winter coats and maybe take our mittens off. And no-school snow days were few and far between.

     Things changed over time. Winter began arriving later in the calendar year, sometimes not until the end of December. And a sixty degree January day is not unheard of. Conversely, 108 inches of snow in 2015 showed us just how unpredictable Mother Nature can be.

     Winter 2019 has been tolerable so far. There weren’t a lot of 0 degree days which makes winter’s bitter pill easier to swallow. The storms we’ve had were easy to clean up after, and the space between them made them a minor nuisance at best. The heaviest snow stayed mostly north of the Massachusetts border, and New Hampshire welcomed it with open arms. They’re used to it up there, and their economy depends on it. For us southern New England residents, it was a win-win situation all the way around. Until now.

March has arrived like the proverbial lion (more like a snow leopard). Things should be thawing out, not freezing over. I’m watching the snow fall outside my window as I write this. The flakes are tiny, and that usually means they won’t be stopping any time soon. The snow will continue through the morning,  relentlessly piling up, little by little, just enough to make it dangerously slick on the roads. But it’s the weekend, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to hang out and watch it fall. There’s another storm coming Sunday night, a bigger storm at a worse time. Why not add more aggravation to a Monday morning commute that is already a headache without clearing out from a Sunday night storm. It does feel a little late in the game for winter to be returning in full force. And what about that lovable ground hog Punxsutawney Phil, who lied to us about an early spring?  He’s hiding somewhere under the fake news bandwagon.

     I’d rather be gardening in the dirt than shoveling ice and snow. I have lots of outdoor work I need to do this year. An early jump on the season would be welcomed. My window of opportunity seems to be shrinking each year. And this year it’s frosted over.

     I’ve learned there is no use complaining about the weather. You can’t do anything about it (unless you have one of Dick Cheney’s Halliburton weather-controlling machines). I’ve accepted the fact that I’m just going to have to wait for spring to arrive on it’s own. It always does, sooner or later, hopefully before the end of June but who knows?

     Until then, I’m going to sit in my cozy kitchen, drinking coffee and eating sugar cookies while I watch the peaceful white flakes drift from the cloud filled sky. My iHome speakers are playing Kate Bush’s album appropriately titled “50 Words For Snow”. In the title track, the singer reads a list of words synonymous with the falling white stuff. A few of my favorites from the list of names for snow are Shimmerglisten, Whippocino, Stella-tundra and Vanilla-swarm. I’ve got my own addition to the song. My own 51st word for snow: Enough!

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