Winter Wonderland

It’s snowing. Again. Somehow, after living in San Francisco for only two years, I got used to a temperate climate. I can’t believe how snowy and cold this winter has been! The forecast through the end of this week promises another foot of snow. I feel ridiculous talking about the weather this way, but suddenly it feels like I’m living in the north woods of Canada.

My blogger friend Out Walking the Dog just posted a clever piece, “Ode to the Shovellers of New York.”  It really captures the impact of Old Man Winter—and the hope that spring will come soon.

On the flip side, a snow-covered Manhattan life is fairly easy. There’s no snow-blowing, shoveling or hazardous driving. I dress warmly, pull on my waterproof boots, and proceed on foot. And I have never felt more privileged to live close to Central Park. On my walk this morning I marveled at how private it felt. No cars, very few people. And quiet. Silent, even. I passed a lone man walking his lab and we stopped for a brief chat. It was after 9 AM but I wanted to unsnap Chewie’s leash and let her run around.

“You know, the gate to Sheep’s Meadow is open,” the man said casually, nodding at his dog, who had clearly been rolling around in the white stuff. “Nobody’s over there,” he added, as they walked away. I got the hint, enjoying the sneaky exchange. Sure enough, the gate was open. Freedom!

I am still unsure as to what makes snow such an exciting substance to run, romp and roll in. It’s like a double doggy shot of espresso. Watching this burst of energy and enthusiasm will never get old, even if the pup is going gray. Of course, with a quick shake Chewie was over the snow and beelining home for her breakfast. I might be over the snow, too, if I didn’t have a dog.