SNOW
In Arkansas,
a special treat,
when I was just a child.
My mother made “snow cream!”
If snow came at Christmas time,
and every year we prayed it would,
It was like the songs that romanticized
the illusive stuff.
But most often it was missing.
When I was grown, I traded the farm for
Memphis, Tennessee
to pursue my childhood dreams.
And the snow did fall there once,
14 inches of it in December 1963.
Minus 13 degrees! Unheard of!
And a brand-new international airport,
with jets that could neither take off nor land.
Snow plow? What’s that?
We were the laughingstock of the nation!
City buses and fair weather drivers
snarled traffic hopelessly,
and it was so exciting!
And over my ankle-high “winter” boots.
We simply waited for it to melt and
disappear in the next day or so.
Then I married a Yankee architect and moved to
a small town in a Pennsylvania
valley.
And snow took on an entirely new meaning.
To me, the beautiful, white landscape made the
Dismal winters bearable, so clean and new,
and I had my very first sled ride!
But soon it became drifted-in driveways
and ice to fall on.
Frozen roof gutters and downspouts.
Icicles so beautiful yet treacherous,
a sign of trouble to come
with leaks and streaks on inside walls.
Heavy coats and boots became a burden.
And a first-grader who used her plastic book bag
as a sled to slide downhill to school!
Only endangerment to children’s lives
closed schools in Pennsylvania.
The winter of 1978-79 cured any of my remaining
romanticism toward snow,
A long driveway lined with snow too high
to throw shovels full of more snow atop.
Danger to little children walking to school,
crossing driveways with drivers
backing out blind due to the high piles of snow.
Watching the snow being hauled away in dump trucks.
But also a perfect back yard for two little girls to tunnel into
and build a snow house with the help of their baby sitter.
But lest my memory wane, enter the winter of 2013-14,
The current winter, the worst in 20 years,
a not-so-subtle reminder of how snow-weary one can become.
Snow: so beautiful to see from the inside of a cozy home, especially if
you
know it will be gone in a few days.
Not so in the North!
Often the first snowfall is still there until the spring thaw.
This year I joyously welcomed Imbolc (Candlemass or Ground Hog Day)
and its promise of the Spring Equinox just around the corner.
The Wheel of Life turns, earth needs its time of rest,
and I must honor that.
But I long for the sprng of the year when new life comes forth.
Bring it on!
Lynn Ross
February 5, 2014
