A pastel palette
The northeastern area of the United States is currently blanketed with foot after foot of fallen snow. The flakes have become piles; the piles have become drifts. Now the cold stuff feel like cliffs to those underneath.
It is hard for me to imaging what it must be like there, because I write this post from the relatively balmy Southwest, where we have only had two little snow storms all winter. Neither stayed frozen for more than a couple of days. They are wet and cold; we are only dry and cool.
But I do remember what it felt like to be "snowed in" as a child in the winter in Wyoming. First of all, I was not alone. I had my parents, my siblings and our animals for safety and company. I was the oldest of the kids, still in elementary school, though school was out on blizzard days. We had our pets - a dog and cat, and our livestock. We all needed care and my parents took care of all of us, including the cows, horses, pigs and chickens.
Being unable to get through on the roads meant that we were "stuck," sometimes for almost a week. Thus we had to be self-sustaining. We did not have electricity, central heat or a telephone. But we had plenty of what we really needed: coal and wood for the stoves, overshoes for feet, mittens and caps for extremities, canned food in the cellar, milk and eggs from the livestock, block ice for the icebox, meat from steers and hogs and parents who knew how to do everything necessary to keep us all well and happy. It was a kind of adventure for us kids.
Today's storms are very different - marked by being in the news, having machines to work the snow, high energy costs, and talk about global warming. I think I like the old way better, somehow.
My topical post today at South by Southwest is about presidential candidates.
Technorati tags: thoughts culture family weather personal nostalgia snow storm
Myth is the public dream, and dream is the private myth. - Joseph Campbell
My “dreams and dreaming” post today at Good Second Mondays is about dream imagery.
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