The silence of the falling, sticky snow is shattered by limbs creaking, crashing in the woods with a loud thud, a collective sigh of nature burdened by the heavy, pristine white blanket. The trees look like white giants with droopy arms dragging the ground.
It is the first
snow of winter and of 2022, eight inches accumulation so far, and still falling
hard. The hawkish wind is blowing it sometimes sideways, drifting in sudden
gusts a few inches that fail to remove any significant amount of snow, already
stuck like glue to the ground and on all horizontal surfaces no matter how
small.
Yesterday it
was so warm that we wore short sleeves and ran the air conditioner briefly. I
am now dressed like storybook Nanook of the North, in heavy wool sweater, thankful
for the cozy heat from the twenty-first century’s furnace.
I am no
longer freezing inside in flannel pajamas, wool pants, sweater, coat, gloves, and
boots as I did during the communist regime when steamed heat, hot water,
and electric or gas heaters were things only the loyal party members enjoyed on
a constant basis in wintertime. So much for my white privilege.
The
windchill is at 22 degrees Fahrenheit and I am praying that electricity will
stay on, as our Marxist politicians in Washington, D.C. have been pushing their
green globalist agenda with reliance on erratic “green” energy from wind and
solar. Right now, the wind is blowing but there is no sun. Fossil fuels and
wood are what people can rely on dependably. I hope there is enough stored
electricity with Dominion Power and the falling trees do not knock down any powerlines.
We are
cutting down trees at alarming rates to make shipping boxes for an economy that
has been forced from brick-and-mortar stores to home delivery due to the flu
fearmongering broadcast non-stop on mainstream media, frightening people inside
their homes for almost two years now. Hiding and cowering in fear has turned
the American population into voluntary prisoners inside their own homes.
The roads in
our neighborhood are impassable and nobody has come out yet to shovel their
driveways, nor are there any road plows in sight to clear the roads. The
schools closed yesterday, and people wondered if it was wise to do so after two
years of students learning nothing at home except how to play new online games,
but people realize today with a sigh of relief that meteorologists were right
this time. The popular saying, even broken clocks are right once a day, fits
this weather forecast.
During my
childhood, children would have already been outside, sledding, skating,
building snowmen, having snowball fights, however painful with wet snow, and
squealing with joy and occasional pain from injury. By the end of the day, when
the streetlights came on, and they went home reluctantly, their clothes were
wet and frozen stiff on their bodies. The children of this current generation
are snug inside, staring at a blue screen all day, getting their exercise
surfing the television channels or their electronic devices, still dressed in
their pajamas. They are weak and pampered and would be unable to survive the
elements outside for any length of time.
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