“Whoa,” someone said. “It’s really coming down.”
We looked up – I hadn’t even noticed the place had a window, honestly – to see what appeared to be a blizzard forming outside.
It was probably time to go.
Before we all officially parted ways and skedaddled, I ducked outside to grab some stuff I’d left in a friend’s truck. Stepping out the door, I got a little stupid. Because snow! Snow, fools! SNOW! So maybe I squealed a little, danced in the middle of the road some.
“I admire that you still like snow, even with our job,” he said.
“I’m conveniently forgetting all that right now,” I responded.
The cloudiness of winter gets me down. Like a lot. But the snow! Holy moly – SNOW! I get so gushy and ridiculous thinking about it that I forget sometimes that maybe not everyone shares my excitement. See, I’ve got this friend who feels the same way about summer and beaches and palm trees as I do about snow. And I was trying to encourage her, amid this snowiest of winters, but got stuck trying to make a concise List Of Reasons Why Snow Is Awesome. Instead, I ended up summarizing my thoughts. It went something like this:
It’s quiet.
You look out your window, and you can barely see because it is absolutely pouring snow. Is it falling down? Up? Sideways? All of the above? There is so much happening at once and yet – it’s quiet. Absolutely silent. Snow, for the most part, doesn’t make a sound when it falls gently to the pavement. So seeing all this mess but not hearing it? The absence of one sense ups the ante for those remaining. Without the sound to distract you – and don’t get me wrong, the sound of falling rain is quite nice – you’re able to really see what’s happening around you. It’s like someone pressed the mute button on the world. Quiet, yes. But peace and quiet, most of all.
It’s beautiful.
Before the plows come through, before the cars drive over, before the dogs mark it up and the boys write their names: the world is covered in a smooth, gorgeous, quilt of white. And maybe the sun’s out, shining on it in just the right ways, making that blanket fucking glisten. It’s shimmers, people. The ground is sparkling.
Snow is God’s glitter.
It’s logical.
On a cold February day, when the sun’s tucked back behind a million layers of clouds and the wind is bitch-slapping you in the face as you walk outside, and the air is bone-disintegratingly dry… Well, those kind of days are just… ugh. Barf. Gross. You stand outside for thirty seconds and it feels like you’ve been flash-frozen.
But then it starts to snow, and you become distracted (Snow is, after all, a whore for attention). Somehow, it starts to feel…warmer. See, our minds tell us that in order for snow to be falling, it must be cold outside. But when it’s freeze-your-balls-off cold and snow is not on the ground, our brains (consciously or not) just can’t compute. Something is just wrong when it’s 8 below zero and the sidewalk is dry. But seeing snow falling in freezing temperatures? This is a logical, straight-line connection between Cause and Effect. Snow is a perfectly acceptable excuse for the cold. It makes the cold worth it.
I’m not trying to convert the Snow Haters of the world – I’m merely posing glass-half-full scenarios to help them get through the next few months. That said, I’ve got one more.
Stretching your arms in the air as far as they’ll reach, head thrown back, eyes wide open, hopping up and down and twirling in the middle of the road as big, fat, wet snowflakes fall and spin around you:
that, dear friend, is the best part of snow.
See also: this
the sloppy copy 