I suspect it was more a question of when – rather than if, given the extended run of near zero weather we had had for pretty much all of last week – we would have the snow come down. When we did, we woke up to a blanket of snow everywhere on Sunday morning, and then again on Monday. That managed to add 15 minutes to my Sunday morning commute – for all the scrapping and cleaning that my car required – and made me break out a proper winter coat for the first time this year.
For what it’s worth, the somewhat apologetic – if uncomfortable silences – which weighed down my conversations with folk down south are all now gone, lost in the whiteness of a return to the norm. Nine times out of ten, it is us northern folk who must bear the burden of weather induced lock jams and disruptions, not those further down south, who have been spoiled by slightly warmer, drier weather.
I find the snow infinitely better than the rain, mainly because the constant drizzle of the rain leaves in its wake a certain granite grey mood – depressing for the most part given the city’s signature buildings are all grey granite. Stuff does look better in snow. We’ll face the downsides of the snow soon – once it has had a chance to melt and re-freeze into a thin, nearly invisible layer of slippery, dangerous ice.. Until then, I’ll revel in the whiteness of everything.