somehow, i’m in denial about the weather, and this week it looks like it’s sort of paying off.
the east coast has gotten whaled on by a back-to-back pair of historically crappy snowstorms in early february, following hot (cold?) on the heels of a similarly airport-crashing storm in mid-december. we’ve had epic piles of snow 3 times this winter, the sort where flights are canceled for days, you have to get your shoulder behind the front door to push it open over the mass of dense fluff, and a bajillion people loose power (more on that some other day). it’s been the sort of season that makes me question why i left the Texan homeland in the first place; i’ve done far more than my share of shoveling this year.
and yet, somehow, every time i look out the window, it’s a total surprise to see things covered in a blanket of white. i drive along in the car with the heater cranked up to “july in dallas”, lost in my thoughts, and end up somewhat stunned to notice the hillsides i’m driving through are still white. maybe it’s that the new office doesn’t have a window, but every time the back door of the building opens to admit an icy blast, it’s an unexpected annoyance.
those white hills are finally fading out to greenish brown, and i’m starting to do that ridiculous thing where i stop wearing a coat because willpower alone will keep me springtime warm. is it denial or optimism? is there a difference at this point?
now all i have left to do is hope like hell that it hurries up and melts so the mudpit back yard can finally dry out.