Blinded by the White

Snowpocalypse, SnOMG, Snowmageddon….the nicknames are piling up on Twitter and Facebook. The idea of long, snow-filled Winter seemed exciting at first, but I am officially over it. It’s not like we’ve even had a “big” snow, but the constant stream of 2-3 inch storms is enough to throw our schedules out the window and have us panicked that we will surely still be in school all summer long.

I am a child of summer and my body was meant to be kept in a constant 85 degree climate. I can’t imagine how I would survive a true Winter, like the ones John experienced as a small child in Northern Pennsylvania.  In my experience, Winter is a brief cold snap in December, followed by one or two bouts of snow in January, and then tapering off to 45 degree rain through February, punctuated by the occasional random 65 and sunny that buoys the spirit until Spring. By the time we see Derby hats, Summer is just around the last turn of the racetrack.

Ah, summer. If I close my eyes really tight I can still imagine what it feels like:  Those first days when the wind is still a little chill, but the sun heats my back as I bend over a garden bed to weed; Those clear, hot 80 degree days in June, sitting by the pool, a splash of water coming at just the right second; And later at night, an ice cold beer in my hand as I sit on the front porch; the air that feels just like slipping into bath water; In July, when the humidity causes my hair to curl in seven different ways, and the scorching sun turns everything white and bright through the middle of the day.

Can you see it? Can you feel it? Neither can I. Time to heat up some more tea and put my bathrobe over my clothes again. Snowpocalypse can’t last forever.

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