I love snow.
Snow is a big reason I moved to Idaho’s mountains. If precipitation is going to fall from the winter sky, I prefer it be in the form of snow rather than rain. Seattle has way too much rain and too little snow. I don’t miss Seattle’s rain.
Snow is a state of mind. Embrace it, and it will reward you.
My love of snow is why I adore Alaskan malamutes as companions. They’re as eager as I am to play in snow.
To my surprise, my Australian shepherd, Finn, resembles a malamute in his love of snow. But for his short legs, making it challenging for him to wade through the deep stuff, he would be a true snow dog.
Sometimes, though – take the past two days as an example – the amount of snow falling verges on too much of a good thing. On top of an existing abundance of snow, at least another foot has accumulated in the last 48 hours, a non-stop deluge of snowflakes.
I decided to measure the snow depth this morning by dipping the handle end of a broom into the undisturbed snow outside my front door. I don’t shovel the walkway in winter; I have too few visitors, so they can come in through the garage, as I do, first impressions be damned. This morning there was 27 inches of snow on the ground outside my front door.
And it just kept coming all morning, no relief in sight.
Snow, and more snow, all day, nonstop. Probably another four inches added to the 27 inches I measured this morning.
Around 5:00 pm I ventured out into the yard to shovel any dog bombs (aka poop) over the fence, knowing that, alas, most would be buried, only to be discovered at some point in the future when the snow finally melts. The boys followed me, Conall wanting to play, Finn understanding he was at a disadvantage because of the deep snow and sticking close to the house for better traction, or waiting until I packed down a trail before venturing out into the deep white fluffy stuff.
I joke that the snow the boys bring into the house means I don’t need a humidifier. In Idaho, the air is dry and there’s lots of static electricity in winter, so I don’t mind when the boys bring snow inside, shaking it off their coats or dropping clumps off of their feet and legs. The interior air can use the moisture. And this is why I designed a home with concrete floors – the boys can bring in snow, mud and dust without damaging carpets or rugs. Clean up is easy. (Added plus: I’m allergic to dust and pet dander, which accumulates in carpets, so having concrete floors is much better for my sinuses.)
Today was a federal holiday (President’s Day), which means the municipal and county plows were less likely to be clearing roads. I didn’t have to go anywhere, so I didn’t mind all the fresh snow keeping us home. The boys were a bit bored, yet seemed to understand the challenge to venturing out.
A few days ago an issue arose with one of my previously-crowned teeth, requiring attention asap. This afternoon I was able to make an appointment to see the dentist tomorrow, but I worried about venturing out and getting back up my driveway afterward with all this new and slippery snow. So I was quite relieved to see, just before dark and as the day’s snowfall was abating, the guy who plows my driveway.
I could also see the county plow clearing the roads in my subdivision. In fact, it was clear that the guy plowing my driveway – Travis – was following the county plow so that I wouldn’t find a big berm of snow where my driveway meets the county road. A nice touch that I very much appreciate.
It’s the small, unasked-for things that matter. This is why I give Travis a tip every Christmas.
I admit, I wouldn’t want to have this much snow year-round. December through March is enough. Knowing that snow has its season, that spring’s melting is sure to follow, makes the snow and winter’s chill enjoyable, a time of rest and contemplation, a prelude to the joys of spring’s wildflowers, greening trees and songbirds, making that season even sweeter.
I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland/Through the Looking-Glass
Feature image: Conall admiring the view during our forest run on February 14, 2021.