I came into today's storm fully prepared to write it off. As I threw open my curtains this morning, giddy as a Christmas child, I looked down upon the roads to find them bare as the Golden Driller’s chest. My faucets dripped, disappointedly, in the background.
Today’s storm, all morning, was a mere “wintry mix,” my most hated of cold euphemisms. Pellets of snow-ice barely larger than an electron drizzled upon the pavement, forming little deserts of wafting dunes. Gross, I thought, pick a lane!
However, throughout the day, the storm proved its determination to buck my judgment. Just as I went to press Publish on my stupid little snowstorm review (“this storm feels like someone found a box labeled ‘Leftover Sand’ and dumped it over the city,” I wrote), fat flakes began to pour out of the silver-clouded sky. Bigger and more terrifying than Saturday’s snow, this one is positively pummeling us. The views out my window are of constant coverage and movement. Few dare to go outside. Pulses of snow fall from rooftops and get caught up in the gale. A proper snowstorm is upon us.
While its early plot movements gave me the fear that it would come to nothing, this ultimate crescendo is more than satisfying. Snow days are made for storms like this. I hope your toboggans are greased; I hope your thermoses are full; I hope your blankets are warm. I give this winter storm an A-.
While you’re here, consider the people who are braving this thing while homeless, and the organizations that work to get those people into hotels and shelters: I’m thinking right now of BeHeard Movement Outreach, who help house people during terrible storms like this, and Tulsa Food Not Bombs, who distribute supplies and have a regular free meal program. Donate if you can.
Anywhoozle. Stay safe out there. Thanks to the helpers, as always.
