Cold. Here. Snow to come

There’s a snow storm coming. Every few weeks in the winter a snow storm comes to Minnesota. I love Minnesota. I love this strange state because living here with the snow storms, which so frighten people from other places, is hard and good.The cold, too, reminds us of our location and status.

Here. Cold.

You watch the local television news stations, where a youngish meteorologist tells you about the snow storm. He or she takes such delight, this young meteorologist, in telling us about the snow storm that always comes, every winter. They went to college for this and there are numbers involved, a bar bet to be won, stories to be stored up for when the young meteorologist moves to a warmer climate. They always do. Snow storms never obey the young meteorologists, who are then pilloried for their insolent predictions. If you see an old meteorologist in northern Minnesota they are probably only 28. Snow storms do that to young meteorologists.

The snow deadens the sound. Just a few weeks ago I could hear my son’s school bus driver start the engine a mile away, pilot the growling dinosaur along the highway and down our dirt road. During a snow storm we see the lights first, the silent eyes trolling down the path. The grumbling engine sound only barely exceeds the volume of the snow crunching below the tires.

The falling snow makes soft ringing sound, like tinnitus in your ears. Maybe it is tinnitus. Anyway, I only hear it when it snows. It will snow, and soon.

And driving? When the snow comes, you will drive slower. If enough snow comes, you will not drive. You are not in control. Your world is petty and vulnerable to nature’s wrath. Everything you try will fail, sometimes. But then again it’s not so bad. It’s important to know this.

Minnesota: Cold. Here. And I love it.

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