Snow

You're probably going to think I'm really twisted but I still like snow.

Sure, I whine and complain and moan and despair when I have to shovel it just like everybody else but afterwards I love snow. Last night Pete and I went out to the Beacon Street Tavern. While crossing the street I found myself admiring the moves of a particularly nimble man on the other side as he made his way over the snowbank piled between the sidewalk and the street. It dawned on me that I often enjoy watching people deal beautifully with adverse conditions.

I'm a bit klutzy myself. I love to see how other, more physically adept people handle these obstacles. I don't know if I think I can learn from their example or if I just enjoy witnessing a job well done, but you don't get the opportunity to see such things often on a summer's day.

I also enjoy maneuvering on and around snowy objects. I've always loved climbing on things and scrambling around. That's part of why I love rocks, trees and boats. Snow has the added advantage of unpredictability. Will the bank hold when I plant my foot on it or will I sink in up to my knee? For an able-bodied person snow can add a little fun and excitement to an ordinary walk to the grocery store. I even love the crunch crunch crunch sound that boots on snow make. Plus, falling on snow doesn't hurt much. Ice is a whole other bunch of bananas though.

I get my best work done when there's a fat blanket of snow all over everything. For some reason I find it reassuring. Everything's cozily tamped down and muffled and I don't need to worry about it so I can get on with my business. I think I've written about that before. It's still true!

I've been feeling a bit out of touch with my usual appreciation of the seasons lately. My projects and ideas and the other things that are going on inside my head have been more compelling. This year I noted the arrival of fall without my usual relish. I've been distracted. When I was a kid I loved snow without reservation. I've been mostly grouchy with it so far this year. It was nice to have an appreciative moment for the weather and the season last night.

It seems kind of backwards to want things to be a little bit more difficult than they absolutely have to be. Maybe it's a funny kind of coping mechanism? If you're dealing with something difficult and some minor irritation pops up maybe it distracts a little from the full impact of the real problem - it draws a little focus away. Or maybe I'm just a bit perverse.