Plink. Whump.
I hope this snowstorm is bigger than they say. Nature is the only thing that can slow things down in the 21st century.
Yes, I am at work right now, but things are winding down as people drift off for the holidays. Business slows in my industry for the two weeks containing Christmas and New Year’s, though in my particular area the day to day stuff never stops and we use the holidays to get ahead of the curve on upcoming projects that will hit the fan come the first Monday after New Year’s. But yes, I will have to deal with commuting home through the mess.
Fine.
For now, I can take a few minutes and watch the snow swirl outside. Unfortunately, right now I can only watch and not get the full experience. You see, what I really love is the sound of snow.
The silence that a nice, thick snow covering provides at the height of a heavy snowfall that doesn’t have too much wind. It’s a silence that almost lets you hear the plink of each flake as it adds to the pile. It pads and muffles and changes nearby noises. At the same time, you can hear things from greater distances. The ka-chung, ka-chung, ka-chung, ka-chung of the SIR rolls through clearly to my house even though it’s a quarter mile away from both locations.
The crunch of foot into snow.
The “whoomph” that you make when you fall backward into a snow pile to make an angel.
It all reminds me of when my ears were lower to the ground and I heard all of this more clearly and more often. When snow was always a joy and never something to be fought through to get to an ungrateful workplace or slogged in to get home, fall down only to get up the next day to battle back to where you were yesterday.
We used to climb up the snow piles in supermarket parking lots and slide down them on flat plastic sleds or, in a pinch, cardboard boxes. Skrrrrtttt down the pile and crrrrrrrkkkkk when you hit the bare asphalt.
Tackle football in the snow was fantastic. The whump of a pass into a chest, the crunch into the snow when you were tackled, laughing. Who even knew where the end zone was?
Now it’s all about the end zone, isn’t it?
Not today it isn’t. It’s snowing. I’ll get there when I get there, and I’ll do my best to enjoy the trip. The snow can teach you a few things if you listen.
Yes, I am at work right now, but things are winding down as people drift off for the holidays. Business slows in my industry for the two weeks containing Christmas and New Year’s, though in my particular area the day to day stuff never stops and we use the holidays to get ahead of the curve on upcoming projects that will hit the fan come the first Monday after New Year’s. But yes, I will have to deal with commuting home through the mess.
Fine.
For now, I can take a few minutes and watch the snow swirl outside. Unfortunately, right now I can only watch and not get the full experience. You see, what I really love is the sound of snow.
The silence that a nice, thick snow covering provides at the height of a heavy snowfall that doesn’t have too much wind. It’s a silence that almost lets you hear the plink of each flake as it adds to the pile. It pads and muffles and changes nearby noises. At the same time, you can hear things from greater distances. The ka-chung, ka-chung, ka-chung, ka-chung of the SIR rolls through clearly to my house even though it’s a quarter mile away from both locations.
The crunch of foot into snow.
The “whoomph” that you make when you fall backward into a snow pile to make an angel.
It all reminds me of when my ears were lower to the ground and I heard all of this more clearly and more often. When snow was always a joy and never something to be fought through to get to an ungrateful workplace or slogged in to get home, fall down only to get up the next day to battle back to where you were yesterday.
We used to climb up the snow piles in supermarket parking lots and slide down them on flat plastic sleds or, in a pinch, cardboard boxes. Skrrrrtttt down the pile and crrrrrrrkkkkk when you hit the bare asphalt.
Tackle football in the snow was fantastic. The whump of a pass into a chest, the crunch into the snow when you were tackled, laughing. Who even knew where the end zone was?
Now it’s all about the end zone, isn’t it?
Not today it isn’t. It’s snowing. I’ll get there when I get there, and I’ll do my best to enjoy the trip. The snow can teach you a few things if you listen.
Comments
Was just out in it and it is pretty and quiet.
WV gumers The stuff that gets stuck in the snow blower chute.