Oh woe be to Snow
Apparently I feel poetic today. Maybe it is the thought of a foot or more of snow hitting our little coastal state in the next few hours. Normally a foot of snow would not phase me a bit, but this is New England Snow…
You see, I come from Colorado. Colorful Colorado is you read those signs by the state line. More specifically I spent about seven years growing up in the mountains. And just mountains, I mean, The Mountains. We’re talking Summit County, Colorado’s Playground. We get snow and lots of it. I am no stranger to sub-zero temperatures and blinding whiteouts that can last for a full day.
Colorado, though, is one of those nice landlocked states. The only major bodies of water are our rivers and some reservoirs. Consequently, the humidity is on the lower side of the spectrum. When it gets over 20% relative humidity (don’t even get me started on 40%) we feel it. We go so far as to start considering that to be pretty wet out.
The fact that Massachusetts stays somewhere close to 60% humidity all the time is a big change. It also means that snow here is, well, different. Colorado snow is the light, fluffy stuff of carefree dreams. You can play in it, drive in it, and walk through it without a care in the world!
Here snow is wet. Very very wet. It’s more like getting hit with well soaked cotton than anything else. And all that soggy snow quickly turns to ice that covers everything in a think to think layer of horrible doom. I say this because when we got a very small amount of snow last week, that’s what it became. If we get much more, it will be much closer to resembling the apocalypse. Therefore, I have composed a simple haiku that should be used as my epitaph just in case I am killed by old man winter (and don’t have time to write this down at the moment).
Oh, woe be to Snow,
Turned to ice on black top,
Slipping, falling, gone.
I know, it is quite lovely. You should probably keep it on hand to remind you of the short transitory beauty of life the next time you see a patch of ice. It would also be nice to sue your estate for copyright infringement if you end up dying on that patch of ice and your family uses that particular line as your own epitaph.
Cheers, and don’t eat yellow snow.
