It's after midnight. There's a blackbird singing outside from somewhere close. If you were to stand outside, on the porch perhaps.. maybe if you were wanting a smoke say... you'd notice there are more than four birds singing out there. Chirping, calls echoing back and forth to eachother through the amber streetlight glow. What CAN they have to talk about this late at night? Silly birds.
Day before yesterday, and even the day before THAT one, we had snow here on the ground in the burbs of Liverpool. Years ago, Lynne tells me, it snowed more regularly here. Nothing approaching the volume we got in Montana, but certainly more than the 'never' that's been the norm here for a few years.
Lynne has wonderfully fond memories of snow as a child. The memories are tied to her mother, to her family, lovingly polished. She's a funny girl, my wonky one. While I read news and message boards, her FAVORITE online spot is a weather site. God help us all if there's even a whisper of snow hinted within 100 miles. LOL. She's onto it. Satellite images, isobars, trends, Lynne's got it all down.
I've seen her get out of bed in the middle of the night to check if it's snowing. (Okay, to be honest, I slept through it and heard about her snowchecks in the morning.) We laugh at her streetlight gazing.. where she cranes her neck looking at the light outside to see exactly what form the precipitation is taking.
Much as I tease her, I too love the snow. This last, most recent snowfall gave me a gift I wondered if I'd ever experience again, the magic of GIANT flakes. I call them 'potato chip flakes' because, yes, they're as big as a potato chip.
No, I make no claim to originality or cleverness with that name. LOL.. it's just what they are.
Living here, on the western edge of the country, warmed by the jetstream, I sort of assumed that the 'big snow' wouldn't be happening here. I miss it.
We'll probably never have the winter experiences here that I did in Montana. Leaving the cupboard doors open underneath the sinks at nights to help keep the pipes from freezing won't happen here. I'll never have to use an alternate route because I worry I can't make that icy hill. I don't have to see that extension cord snapping back at the house and think, omg, I forgot to unplug the engine heater! Or spray starter fluid into the carb to get the car to start.. (how old am I, do cars even have carburetors with the flap thingies anymore?)
I liked the challenges of snow. I also liked the way it sometimes forced you to slow your life right down. It made the house feel cozy. Hot chocolate tastes a hundred times better when you drink it after a hearty snowball fight, running around the yard, heaving frosty cold air into every tiny crevice of your lungs.
Did you also know that snow makes a noise as it falls? My house was surrounded by big fields. As the snow blanketed these vast surfaces, it made the sound of water running, very faintly. like shhhhhhhhhhh. I can only guess the sound is created as the crystal flakes hit against eachother, when falling, when landing.
I love the snow. I love potato chip flakes.