I love inclement weather.
It tickles all my happy emotional places, reminds me of childhood snow storms, imbues regular life with a sense of adventure. I miss snow like the stuff shown in this photo of a person I do not know:
I love the way everything hunkers down in a storm, I love the anticipation as we wait for it to strike. I love feeling its imminent presence 200 miles away, imagining it coming closer and what it will be like.
Mostly, though, I love the way people behave toward each other during massive snow storms and other bad weather events. People are nicer. They help each other out. They go out of their ways to be pleasant and generous.
If more of us would act every day the way we do in times of “crisis,” the world would assuredly be a better place.
I cannot wait for the seven to fifteen inches of snow accumulation in the next 24 hours, and I desperately hope it doesn’t peter out and drop a mere three to five. I want a paid snow day! I want to luxuriate in a warm house on a blustery, blizzardy day.
This storm currently stretches two thousand miles. That’s amazing! And wonderful. And awesome and I love it.
We keep saying, “we should get a generator,” and yet we have not. Thus, the back of my car is full of wood for the fireplace, just in case the power goes out. The Nook is charging. We have plenty of food and water, and the chicken coop is as bundled up as it’s going to get.
All that said, I think it’s silly how some folks are getting nervous and almost panicky about a storm like this. It is not the end of the world – it’s a snow storm. It may keep a bunch of us at home for a day, maybe two if we’re lucky, while the under-staffed road crew plows us out. It’s going to be ok.
The winds are really starting to whip up here on the modern homestead, a few flakes are tumbling from the sky, precursors of what I hope will be zillions more.
Everyone get cozy! Stay warm, be safe, and appreciate the power of nature. Have some soup. Build a fire if you can. Wear some fuzzy slippers, put on a nice warm sweater. Bask. Be thankful you have a home that shelters you. Remember those who do not.
Knit, read or indulge yourself in some other hobby you don’t make enough time for.
This is winter. Glow.