There’s something about a blizzard.
There’s something about the slow build up of a blizzard. For days we heard
predictions and updates and warnings. Some people prepared by panicking and
stripping grocery stores of all their staple foods. Others prepared by creating
lists and lists of contingency plans, and others still sat back with a resolve
to wing it and let whatever may come, come. Those of us from more frigid
origins, reveled in a peanut gallery of commentary about blizzard experience
and societal reactions. Schools closed, governments shutdown, and public
transportation halted. If you didn't know it, you'd think the world was ending.
There’s something about the blizzard's first snowflakes. It’s so
peaceful and quiet, like the whole world is on mute. When the snow starts
falling, the pause button is pressed. There are hardly any expectations for
work or daily obligations as contingency plans set in. Everyone slows to a
stop as the snow falls gracefully to the ground. News outlets and social media are the only real sources of buzz, lighting up with pictures and descriptions of a city mesmerized as the white takes
over. Everyone hunkers down with snacks and movies, board games and coloring
books.
There’s something about the wait. Waiting for the snow to come, waiting for it to stop, waiting for the final inch counts, waiting to find out what the next few
days will look like, waiting for reality to hit again. In the interim, the surreal detachment to the outside world slowly takes over. As the snow piles up, the realization that we
really aren’t going anywhere any time soon sets in.
There’s something about a blizzard. It’s like a society wide
reset button. The busy of everyday life in a career-oriented city is put on
hold. There is, once again, time for quality time with your family or
housemates. There is, once again, time to cook meals without being rushed.
There is, once again, time to knock things off of your long-term home to-do
list. There is, once again, time to rest. Guilt, though it tries to infiltrate
our minds, is easily put aside. Because in the same way that our lives have
stopped, so has the rest of the world. There is something about a change of
pace that invigorates and excites.
There’s something about a blizzard that makes us feel like
kids again. Children and adults alike are seen romping, sledding, snowballing,
snowman and snow angel making, and looking out the window with wide eyes. The transformation
seems magical and seemingly removes us from the grasp of adulthood. There’s something about waking up to a thick white blanket over the
world that reminds us of our favorite childhood stories. Even if just for a
moment, imagination takes over.
There’s something about a blizzard that builds comradery. If
we didn’t have something in common with our neighbors and other city dwellers
before, we do now. The playing field is even, though just temporarily. Everyone is left with one task: the dig out. Neighbors are brought together though they may have not spoken before. There
are words of encouragement and acts of service. Text messages and phone calls
to friends and family members are plenty. In the moment when we are most
physically disconnected, we find ways to connect.
Snowzilla, as Snowmaggedon and Snowpocalypse, will live on
in memory and will inevitably grow in size and stature as stories are told and
retold for years to come...because there really is just something about a blizzard.