SNOW IS *&^%$%&

Snow is stupid. It’s a dumb precipitation.

Bla, bla, bla, it’s the cycle of life, putting water in the soil or something I learned in seventh grade ecology. But I don’t buy it. It’s cold and cold and cold.

If, by chance, you live in a warm climate, you have absolutely no idea what I’m saying here. Specifically, you will never understand the duck walk or frozen snot. I’ll break it down.

First, it’s cold when it snows. And I’m not talking 50 degrees here. I’m talking, go outside and all your appendages freeze instantly. For those of us fortunate enough to wear glasses, we come inside from the cold, only to have our lenses fogged up.

Shoveling falling snow isn’t fun. It’s like cleaning the house with a toddler. As in, the cleaning, or in this case, the shoveling, never ends. You have two choices: shovel while it’s still snowing, knowing you’ll have to bundle up and do it all over again. Or, you can wait until it’s done snowing, where you’ll be shoveling enough weight to feel like a professional body builder.

For this example, let’s say we use the first concept. Shoveling lighter weight snow, twice. By the time you re-bundle with leggings under jeans, three pairs of socks in boots, a t-shirt, a hoodie sweatshirt, wool hat, scarf, gloves, and a heavy coat for the second time in one day, the temperature has dropped even lower and now the sloped driveway is icy.

Here comes the Duck Walk.

Instead of walking like a normal person in warmer climates, you have to scoot your feet, like a shuffle. But no more than two inches per foot at a time. Any further of a scoot leaves more room for error, or the full splits. No one wants to do the splits on the ice in that much clothing. Right foot scoot. Plant it. Left foot scoot in front of the right foot and so on.

You’re welcome.

You know what else freezes? Snot. Yes, boogers. After lifting heavy snow in single file lines and throwing it onto your once pretty green lawn, all while wearing multiple layers of clothing in 13 degree weather (yes, thirteen, Fahrenheit), you start to sweat. It’s actually an absurd physicality. You can’t remove any articles of clothing or your sweat will freeze.

So, you’re sweating, doing the duck walk, trying not to slip and break a hip, when your nose starts running. And not just a little trickle. Snot is seeping out of your nose and the only way you just realized it was happening, was because you tasted it. Now, you’re sniffling, trying to get it back in your sinuses, but it’s starting to freeze on your upper lip. Don’t wipe it with that heavy glove. That’s how chafed noses occur. Either suck it up, spit it out, or as my older brother tried to teach me, shoot it.

I was never very good at shooting snot like a hockey player. Please don’t ask me to do that again. Let’s just say, it was messy and left remnants of frozen snot rivers that ran from my nose to my forehead.  

Yes, snow is a stupid precipitation….but then again.

There’s a proverb or a cliché, whichever it’s called, that attempts to define winter bliss. “A blanket of snow.” Despite all my anger issues in regards to shoveling the stupid precipitation, I find this saying to lack the essence of the full picture.

If you stop scraping the metal shovel edge across the cement for just a moment, you’ll hear something completely different. Something foreign and bizarre. Something you may never have taken the time to notice before, something absurd even. It’s quiet. There is a quiet calmness that “blankets” the earth, or at least your neighborhood.

It’s not like rain, where you can here it splash and pound surfaces all while making everything a wet mess. There is no sound of the flakes landing, one on top of each other, building a frozen paradise. What was once individual pieces, or flakes, have become intricate designs layered over empty flower pots and roof slopes. Cars stand frozen in place as if the industrial revolution was an ancient memory. There is a powerful beauty is its simplicity and peacefulness.  

Now, get out there and listen to nothing.