A snowstorm is a weird thing. It’s the one natural disaster that is entirely quiet. Earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, volcano eruptions – yeah, you feel those. But a snowstorm is just a trillion trillion trillion little snowflakes falling silently to the ground. Sometimes there’s wind, and sometimes there’s ice, but most of the time it’s eerily quiet.
… except for the local news. Have you ever watched the local news during a snowstorm? Dear God, it’s terrible. Stop yelling at us! You have this amazing, beautiful thing happening outside! It actually forces us to stay inside, which is one of my favorite things to do. Yes, I understand that a blizzard – and this was a historic one in NYC – requires adequate preparation. But I also like to enjoy the WONDER OF NATURE without feeling like the world is ending.
The snow reminds me of being a kid. Snow days were the best. We had this family ritual where the night before a potential snow day, we would dance around the house and sing to the snow gods. It was called the snow dance. I’d go to bed, sweaty and tired, hoping the snow dance was enough get the job done.
And then I’d wake up, and the sun would shine through the shades a little differently, and I’d look at the clock. For a second, I’d panic. It’s 9:30! And then it would hit me that school was cancelled, and my parents let me sleep, and it was like I was given an extra day in life. I could do whatever I wanted. Like go back to sleep. Which I always did.
Snow days are different now that I’m 24. I have to work. I have to take the subway. I have to bend down and tie my boots. I have to watch out for cars and not die. I don’t get a free day anymore.
But that’s fine. It’s fine. I can do cool things now. Like drive! And drink beer! Preferably not at the same time. And make money! And travel! I like being 24. I can still make snow angels.
Here is a picture I took of my block in Williamsburg. It would snow another foot.