The Aerie
Snow finally has arrived, just before Thanksgiving as seems
appropriate, at least to me. When we moved here 28 years ago it snowed
in early November, and by late November the lake that we lived on (or,
to be precise, beside) was frozen enough to walk upon. So that fixed
in my mind the "right" time for these things: snow in early November,
ice by Thanksgiving.
I remember staring out the window on my school bus (that being one of
the few things it was safe to do on my schoolbus) as it traveled home
the day before Thanksgiving, and telling myself "Okay, the way it
works in Minnesota is that the lakes freeze by Thanksgiving."
Coming from New Jersey (where the lakes do not freeze but do sometimes
burst into flame, or congeal into a kind of petroleum gel) it was
important to learn how the new environment operated. Hallowe'en in
Minnesota was conducted under environmental circumstances that would
have had us burning furniture for heat in New Jersey. February brought
with it the surreal experience of frozen sinuses.
But the winter nights out in Bethel had stars and stars and stars and
stars.
Now, I'm not complaining! These were notable differences, but they
certainly weren't bad experiences. The alternative, after all, was to
live in New Jersey, and before that, Queens. I've always had a sense
for surroundings and environments, and that sense told me both of
those places were bad ideas long before I was old enough to understand
why on an intellectual level.
No, moving to an isolated lake in Minnesota was pure heaven, and if
bone- chilling cold was the price I was glad to pay it.
So the snow arrived, preceded as always by the meteorological prophets
forecasting the judgement day of the Winter Storm. I have long ago
concluded that these forecasts select the most disastrous and exciting
possible outcome, without regard for actual likelihood, simply to
drive up viewership.
"Paul Douglas predicted a rain of flaming pitch today dear, take your
asbestos umbrella!"
"Flaming pitch? Well let me tune in and see if that's changed..."
If Paul forecast clear blue skies and highs in the upper 30's, we'd
pretty much just accept that and head off to work. But predict a
blizzard and we tune in every half hour to watch the storm approach
like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi.
So Friday and Saturday were noisy with predictions of meteorological
disaster. The snow finally fell late Saturday and early Sunday, and
arrived not like a Mongol hoarde but like guests to a dinner party.
Civilized, fashionably late, and perfectly well behaved. The
four-to-six inches politely obliterated the drab tan remains of
autumn, frosting the eaves quietly and efficiently.
So we slip into another winter, hopefully a little snowier, just a
mite colder, and hopefully somewhat more upbeat than the last few
winters. By this time next winter, who knows -- maybe I won't be
broke, maybe we'll have a new president lined up, maybe there will be
no snow at all or twice as much. For now, however, a fresh new blanket
of white is hopefully a first step to erasing the grim year that has
been 2003.
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Posted by Albatross at November 24, 2003 12:00 AM