by Timothy Lutts
As I write, the Northeast is in the midst of its first big storm of 2014. It might be a blizzard—it might not. It doesn’t matter. Blizzard is just a word.
What the snow represents to me is a chance to get out early tomorrow morning, before my neighbors turn on their noisy snowblowers, and enjoy the beauty of a world turned white, where lines trump color, and human energy—briefly—is trumped by the force of nature.
And what do I do when I’m out there? I shovel! Shoveling snow is good clean work, much more fun than shoveling dirt. And it leaves me with a sense of accomplishment. When I’m done, the driveway is clear, and the heaping snowbanks send a message of industry that no spewings from a snowblower can hope to match.
But most people don’t share my joy!
The worry about losing electric power. They stock up on food and milk. And gasoline. And rock salt. They test their generators. And most of all, they tune in to the media, to get the latest prediction of how bad it will be.
Obviously, many people find some pleasure in the community aspect of this worry, this anticipation, this preparation. I understand that. But as a contrarian, I simply can’t join them. To me, snow is still fun.
Let it snow!