It wasn’t a heavy snow. No great accumulation despite many hours when flakes drifted past the windows through the naked trees. A frosting. Inches not feet. Wet snow that quickly melts. The ground was a bit warm for such a small storm to have much effect. Today it might have been a different story.


During the night, the cold moved in. It’s bitter. Garry had to put new blades on the windshield wipers, but first, he had to wait for everything to thaw out. A sure sign we’ve moved past fall into winter. It’s not about the calendar.

It’s about how many layers you have to wear. Which boots you need on your icy feet. The gloves that keep your fingers from freezing. The scarves and hats you need to keep your ears from frostbite. How long it takes the car to warm up before you can get some heat. It’s important to remember you can’t leave the GPS in the car — too cold for electronics.


You can’t get into the house via the deck.The wood steps are treacherous with invisible ice. Black ice, we call it. Racist ice, says Garry. But then again, he calls the big black trash bags racist trash bags. It’s a joke. You are allowed to laugh. Sheesh.

Snow is racist too, being so terribly white. Garry takes snow personally. He does not like it. I don’t think he ever did. He’s a sunshine kind of guy. A warm breeze on a tropical beach fellow, yet he is deeply attached to New England. Both he and I were raised in the northeast, New York and then Massachusetts. This part of the world smells right.We understand the light, the cloud formations. We know how the air smells when snow is coming — especially when there is a lot of snow on the way. How the clouds look when they are full of ice crystals. You can feel the weather in your bones,. More as you get older. We don’t like it, but it’s part of our world. We have become human barometers, more accurate than the maps on the weather channel.

People refer to weather without ice as “good foot weather.” It means you probably won’t fall and break a hip — a good thing. I’m  wary about footing. A fall could unglue me and I need all the glue I can get.


It isn’t snowing at the moment, but there’s more on the way. Maybe tomorrow. Once we get into the rhythm of the season, it can — does — snow every day. Not a lot. A bit. An inch, maybe two. Punctuated by bigger storms of a foot or more. And so cold.

Even the sunlight looks frozen.

Categories: Blackstone Valley, Music, Nature, Personal, Photography, Seasons, snow, Weather, Winter

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

4 replies

  1. Pretty….from a distance!


  2. I agree, it just smells right in Michigan, too. My husband is from Missouri and finally, after living in Michigan for 3 years, finally understands what I mean. He can smell it when it is about to rain or to snow, he loves the smell of a fresh sunny day with no humidity, too. The smell of weather and seasonal changes is the main reason I think we will never live in a different climate again.


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