Paul Goldfinger, Editor at Blogfinger.net
Snowy moments: I recall being a teenager. We lived in a garden apartment in Rutherford, a nice, mellow New Jersey bedroom community. Growing up in an apartment could be claustrophobic at times.
I loved heavy snow storms. I would go out when the visibility was low and the snow landed on my face. I could imagine that I was in a magical place. I walked all over and lost myself in a sort of dreamy reverie. It was so quiet, and that was part of the spell. The air was crisp and clean. Nobody was out and there were no cars. Later they would come out with the clank of chains. I didn’t wish for music, but mysterious thoughts were popping into my head. Then home, and Mom would make hot chocolate.
Years later we lived in the woods, and like Robert Frost said, during a snow storm you had to go out and be there. I hoped to run into an animal like a baby deer, but they were all hiding somewhere. I had no horse, but I loved to walk in the woods. A fire was waiting for me at the house–I had chopped the wood myself, and that was great for getting my mind off things.
But medical emergencies often interrupted at night, so I drove to the hospital; thank goodness for the Jeep. I drove through country roads, barely seeing as the snow blew into the windshield. Only the plows were out providing reassurance and intermittent light.
When I got to the ER, the nurses offered me hot coffee–much appreciated.
When I was done, often in the middle of the night, I went to the nearby 24 hour Traveler’s Diner in Dover for a snack. Sometimes I found a colleague sitting alone, and we chatted. I ate mindless of worry—corn beef hash and eggs and more coffee.
Then home, down the driveway into the woods again. I could fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. The snow falling seemed to make me sleep better.
RAYMOND LEPPARD English Chamber Orchestra. “Bach’s Concerto for Harpsichord, Strings and Continuo. #5 in F Minor. Largo.”
Paul: Thank you for sharing your memories of storm storms past.
I too love being out in the silent world of snow. I know you’ll get a kick out of this story. We were told that Jim had a suspicious heart murmur and that to be safe he shouldn’t shovel snow.
Well that left me to be the snow shoveler. I loved it! He would stay inside and I had the task of shoveling the 197 feet of sidewalk. I loved being outside in the dark while the snow flurries flew, knowing all was well inside and I could just enjoy the peace.
How lucky you are to have those beautiful memories.
re. “Into the woods….
February 2, 2021 by Blogfinger”
PG, A beautiful sharing of your experiences….merci bien! ….mel g.
Interesting comparison – a childhood memory related to the beauty and mystery of falling snow and then the challenging reality of having to deal with falling snow on your trip to the hospital. Still, in the end, snow brought comfort. It’s sad that so many people have only the bad memories and feelings related to the challenges of snow and none of the good ones. I like snow despite the inconvenience.