I know all you meteorologists out there will beg to differ on a technicality, but the Detroit verison of "Snowpocalypse 2011" really is a huge let down. Oh, sure, somewhere around 2am, it was a justifiable blizzard here--all crazy high-pitched wind and snow being hurled at the house so hard it sounded like furious sleet. But the net result is something like six or eight inches of snow cover, which, any way you shovel it, is pretty anti-climactic.
It's hard to tell precisely how much snow we got because the wind sent it drifting to such an extent that it was about four inches deep along the entire length of our driveway on the south side, and eight or ten inches deep along the north side.
So, I guess that counts as some kind of cool blizzard-y phenomenon.
But it's hardly something to write to my sister about. You know, the sister who lives in the Boston area. The one whose house saw 68" of snow in January alone. The one who, without a snow-blower, has been routinely removing 14" or 22" or 26" of snow from her driveway. The one who lost her five-year-old a few times the day they went out to shovel the snow off the back deck because they were worried about how deep it was getting. Lost her. In the snow drifts.
I look out my window, and it just looks like a snowy day. I can't see the grass. The margins between driveway, yard, and street are completely erased in a sea of undifferentiated white. I find it pleasant to be visually marooned this way, drinking coffee laced with heavy cream (I have decided any other kind of coffee is pointless), and reading and writing at my desk. I like the sensation of winter stillness, the muffle of passing cars, the slow sifting downward of heavy flakes.
The stiffness in my back attests to the fact that shoveling this morning was much more work than it has been recently. But NOAA photos notwithstanding,
|Cloud cover over the US as of yesterday afternoon. No small storm system.|
I was all excited for a real, honest-to-goodness, two feet of snow, no one's going anywhere in a hurry, kind of blizzard. I've never been in that kind of snowstorm before, and it sounded fun. (I know, everyone on the East Coast is throwing rotten tomatoes at me right now. Sorry.) It sounded like an adventure.
The word blizzard is vaguely thrilling. Dangerous sounding. Enticing.
We basically got eight inches of snow with the promise of a few more today.
There's a word for that too.
Not that I don't like winter. (See above.) I was just hankering for its more exciting cousin--as I was promised.
The moral? Don't believe the Weather Channel hype.
The good news? Since I long-ago learned that most meteorologists could do with a good dose of look-out-the-window-occasionally-buddy, I sort of already knew that about the Weather Channel. Hence: I didn't run out to the store yesterday in a panic for milk, eggs, or other "essentials" -- so at least I don't have to eat spaghetti-o's for the next two days.