Late last month, with all the mild weather we were having, somebody was complaining that it hardly seemed like winter at all and why doesn’t it snow? Okay, that was me—b-ut in my defense, over the summer, I had sort of forgotten that winter was actually cold. Like it is now. So, if my thoughtless wishful thinking somehow contributed to the brutal New Year’s Day blizzard, then I am very sorry.
Okay, our modest snowstorm wasn’t like the one in Sierra Nevada that got 194 inches of snow for the month that erased every identifying feature of the landscape and turned roads into distant memories. And it’s not like I’m ungrateful for the “winter wonderland” thing. I get it. It’s pretty.
I know I’ve said this before, but at least Iowa isn’t Texas. They’ve been inundated with, not just snow falling from the sky, but fish, too. It’s true. Just last week, Texarkana, Texas reported an incidence of “animal rain” (there’s a term for that?). James Audirsch, who works for a local car dealer, told WCIA Weather, “There was a loud crack of thunder and when we opened up the bay door, I looked outside and it was raining real hard and a fish hit the ground… fish were dropping here and everywhere!” Another resident, Tim Brigham got a bucket and started picking up the fish for bait. What else could he do? They were too small to fillet and he couldn’t exactly throw them back.
In Iowa City, they give you just 24 hours after a snowfall to clear off your sidewalk. Then I guess they send somebody out to do it for you and charge you a lot of money. I don’t really know what happens if you ignore the rule. I’ve been too afraid to find out—like when you’re a kid and your dad says, “I’m going to count to three….” Whatever the city does to you might be bad. But maybe not as bad as having to shovel snow in five-below-zero windchill.
Actually, I don’t mind running the snow blower. I’ve got an ancient Ariens that’s as sturdy and reliable as one of those pre-World War II Farmall tractors. It does a respectable, if somewhat indiscriminate job of cleaning snow off the driveway. It will shoot anything in its path 20 feet or more, including gravel, lost mittens and frozen dog poo. Now that I think about it, this might be more fun for me than it is for our neighbors.
The ones I feel sorry for in the winter are the birds. They literally shiver until spring. It’s hard for them to find food under the snow. The regular windchill is bad enough, but how bad would it be if you also had to fly 20 miles an hour to get around? It’s a wonder all the birds don’t pack up and move to Texas where food just falls out of sky.