The S Word

SUNDAY. I knew it would happen sooner or later. A major west coast winter storm threatens New Mexico with snow in a few days. And the crowd roared with delight... No, not me. I can do without the stuff. But it seems like everyone in Albuquerque is enthusiastic about snow. I don't understand this obsession with frozen precip. In my humble opinion, snow is nothing more than a cold, wet nuisance. But it does look pretty.

Call me jaded. Living in New Hampshire, I saw a lifetime's worth of snow in only five years. And let's not forget those 23 years in the Boston area. In and of itself, snow isn't the problem. It's being held hostage in your own home waiting for the street to be cleared. It's realizing a plow operator has blocked your driveway with a mountain of heavy, packed snow and ice chunks, knowing you'll need nothing less than a pickaxe to remove it. It's watching your front yard freeze solid when snow turns to rain or sleet (the dreaded "wintry mix") and the temperature suddenly plummets. It's needing cleats strapped to your shoes to negotiate icy sidewalks. It's getting up at 5AM in eight degree weather, spending 90 minutes shoveling your car out of the driveway, and then watching a plow pile a ridge of snow fifteen inches high along the end of the driveway you just cleared. It's realizing that no matter how early you get up to deal with the snow, you'll still be late for work. It's seeing pristine white fluff turn to brown slush on city streets within hours after a storm ends. And let's not forget the rude surprise of stepping off a curb onto what appears to be a solid mound of snow and sinking above the ankles into an ice-cold slurry of dirt, salt and sun-melted snow.

I created this little video 5 1/2 years ago in New Hampshire after four feet of snow fell during the first week of April. This is what serious snow looks like. The images were shot at our home on Page Hill, where the average annual snowfall is 120 inches. Note the snow piled nearly to the eaves in the front yard and the exceptional mountain view from our living room window. WARNING: CONTAINS MATERIAL NOT SUITABLE FOR CHIONOPHOBES! (Look it up.)

April 2001, Tamworth, NH

That being said, I'll admit snow reframes the landscape in a positive, pleasing way. There are few things prettier than snow-laden branches sparkling in tall pines on a sunny day, especially around the holidays. Thinking about a Currier & Ives white Christmas warms the heart and evokes images of hot mulled cider, Hallmark moments, and gathering 'round the hearth with family, friends and loved ones.

I don't know about you, but growing up we didn't even have a hearth. Instead we hung out at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and working our way through an obligatory holiday fruitcake. It was especially nice if Mom was roasting something. No embers burned and no flames flickered in our avocado Kenmore electric range, but through the little window in the oven door we watched the coils glow a nice shade of orange.

Over the years I've tempered my disdain for winter weather and retained my sanity by entertaining the opposite notion that snow is fun. I learned how to ski and snowshoe. I pretended to embrace winter sports with a passion. I learned how to make hot cocoa from scratch. I became well-versed in the virtues of all-wheel drive and high-tech winter clothing. Most importantly, I made peace with the idea that keeping warm involved constant movement: energy-consuming, muscle-strengthening, limb-stretching, no-pain-no-gain movement. At 58, I find the idea of perpetual motion less than desirable. It's not that I'm lazy. I'd just rather curl up under a blanket and nap.

Oddly, though, I felt a tiny spark of excitement this morning reading the snowy forecast. I've been advised not to expect too much snow in Albuquerque--ever. What little snow actually reaches the ground usually melts by noon. (My landlord laughed when I asked him if we'd need a snow shovel this winter.) Much to my amazement, this is both a relief and a disappointment. Hiking the Griegos Lateral yesterday with Murphy and friends, I realized the path would be a perfect cross-country ski trail. Very near our house, the Lateral is a dirt path along the banks of one of the many city drainage ditches, winding for several miles through the farms of Los Ranchos De Albuquerque, ending at the Rio Grande. However, without significant snow, I won't be skiing the Lateral anytime soon.


I suspect the idea of snow is a lot more attractive than the reality. That alone may be the cornerstone of my somewhat schizophrenic, love-hate relationship with winter. I dream about snow, but when I'm up to my knees in it, shivering in the wind, it quickly loses its appeal. In all honesty, I'm counting the days till winter is over and ignoring the fact that it's only autumn.

Oh Toto, we're not in Florida anymore...

Thanks to Ken Libbrecht, Physics Professor at Caltech, for permission to use his spectacular snow crystal photos.