The wonder of snow

It’s funny about snow.

No matter how often, how firmly, we tell ourselves that snow has nothing to do with Christmas, Christmas has nothing to do with snow, do we really, truly, deep in our hearts believe it?

Being honest, I can’t say Yes.

A boy or girl who wishes for snow at Christmas may be consoled if they get a bicycle or roller skates because at least they may be able to use the gift that day.

If they get ice skates or snow toys of any kind, visible grass will seem almost a taunt.

Some people in snow country are glad to get by without having to plow, blow, or shovel snow.

Others feel cheated in an open winter because neither do they have the breathtaking beauty of falling snow and acres of diamonds to enjoy.

Snow falls and maybe it doesn’t fall straight down. We’ve all seen snow arrive sideways, snow that worms its way past your scarf and lodges down your back.

The first of the first in a season may start in tiny flakes or balls. If wind comes with it, it will blow around the streets in wiggly snow ghosts that are no menace yet.

If snow falls lazily, drifting straight down in huge flakes, we’ll say, “It looks like a Christmas card.”

That may be when snow is at its most enchanting. That may be when we are the most happy that we didn’t go south for the winter.

What started this train of thought about snow in its different aspects was the saying one hears now and then, “Eskimos have a hundred words for different kinds of snow.”

Maybe it’s 40 words for snow, or 1,000, anyway many more than we have or think we have.

So how do we express the various stages of snow beyond the Christmas-card beauty and excitement of the first snow of the season?

It comes in tiny dry-looking balls, not flat flakes at all, the size of large pinheads. This kind blows around and doesn’t accumulate much.

Pretty soon the shape changes to wetter globs or crystals. If the snow gets wetter and more crystalline, and if the wind picks up, “it stings the nose and bites the toes.”

Will the snow become fluffy, or will that form happen in another snowfall? It depends on a bunch of things, one of which is the part of the country you are in when observing this event.

On the East Coast, snow falls from the sky and that’s that. You shovel and wait for spring. Strong wind is unusual.

In the Midwest, snow falls from the sky and usually is so dry that only a little wind will pick it up and put it somewhere else. You can shovel the same snow morning, noon, and night, and do it all over again, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.

Some places have so little wind that the snow sticks to trees and fences and doesn’t move for two weeks. It’s as if the world is holding its breath.

Eventually the snow gets dirty. Comparisons with Christmas cards are over. The tiresome stage sets in.

Snow gets mushy. Slush appears here and there. At sundown, ice and black ice change the scene.

Fresh snow on top of this may be pretty again, but it acts as a security system keeping indoors everyone who can possibly avoid stepping on that treacherous stuff.

If the snow is not too cold and dry, the population of snow families will appear here and there.

In Blaine County, more often than not it is too cold and dry. The snow won’t pack into good balls; it’s more like sugar or salt. This is not igloo country.

Over all, we have enough words to say what we want to say about snow. Who wants to count?