BLIZZARD!!!!!!

I found these beautiful trees on my walk this morning
Snowplows have been running very long shifts
This morning (the ill-defined snowbank in the foreground is at least knee deep)
Road last night
Greenery out front (pre 17-inches)
Yesterday evening's view through my neighborhood

WAAAHOOOOOOO!!!!!! Man, snow is fun. 17.5 inches of snow is really fun. The university is shut down. The city (and busses) are shut down. The state of Wisconsin is shut down (no school anywhere). This ginormous storm system rolled in from the west, split, and covered the entire state with crazy amounts of snow. The poor snow plow guys have been going since last night, and while the main thoroughfares are open, the neighborhood roads were great for cross-country skiing. Whenever I finally woke up this morning, I threw on some snow pants, and I've been going ever since. I walked around the neighborhoods (down the middle of the roads), built a rather insignificant snowman (big for Emory, pitiful when compared to what the neighborhood kids have going), attempted XC skiing for the first time (rather successfully, even if I did look ridiculous figuring it out), and then caught up with C from my program for a lovely snow-bank-climbing, knee-deep-drift-wading, absolutely-exhilarating walk through the neighborhoods and (eventually) to the grocery store. My snow boots work great, I'm pumped for the possibility of skiing on a groomed trail later this week, and I am officially worn out. No skiing pics since I tried that alone, and the other pics aren't the best quality since the sun stayed hidden most of the day. Hopefully, I'll have some solutions to those problems by the time I head south.

Thundersnow

We've had a few snows now. One in October, perhaps two in November, and several this week. The past few days I've watched as the national weather service has issued winter storm watches, warnings, and, to my amusement, "society-impacting" blizzard warnings. I've sat by the windows watching flakes serenely drift downwards, and I've spent time tromping across slippery walks to and from bus stops. Last night, I feverishly set a spiriling path through our glistening front yard, occasionally drifting back to my car in the driveway for a fresh glovefull of snow to eat. This afternoon, I watched the sixth inch of snow land. (We've had more, but it seems a fair amount has be claimed by the mud, salt, sand, and occasional sun.)
But tonight. Oh, tonight was wonderful. As I went about my evening ritual, I paused for a moment to check the snow accumulation. The street lamp across the road illuminated the tunnel of bare deciduous trees that line the drive, all covered with a thick glaze of powder. The road itself was barely defined, a tumbling tread and a snow bank near the far curb. Where plenty of green was visible on the hedges around dinner time, there now remains a lumpy white rectangle. The evergreens near houses are coated, suitable for storybook illustrations. And all is quiet. The snowplows have surrendered, and the only li k to any sort of reality is the out-of-place but ever-important street light. How else could I see the wonderland that exists past my window?
And out of this peaceful surreality, a clap of thunder. Thundersnow. That was in the predictions. All the serenity of snow with the sheer power of a storm. A wind picks up. The trees shake their ghost-arms, yet the snow stays firmly upon the limbs. Perhaps it even glings stubbornly, with an air of rebellion against the storm. The breeze continues, more softly. While the ghost-arms wave gently now, deciduous branches give off small puffs of their white cover. The evergreens keep their blankets tight around them. The world I'm visiting is broken by the movement, the snow no longer calm. Still, I take one last draw from the filled-up, covered-over, pushed-aside world. With that, I rest

And this is why it's a good thing that I never got into creative writing.