When the snow came last week I stayed inside. Work to do.
But at last I could no longer stand being cooped up and I walked out to the shop. The moment my shoes hit the snow I had the strangest feeling of deja vu. Or maybe not deja vu. Maybe the strange sensation of knowing this snow. Of having felt it before.
It's almost impossible to explain this to someone who hasn't lived in a Northern clime. They say that the Eskimos have 50 different words for ice (which I doubt) but there are many kinds of snow. It can take on many textures and weights. From a fine powder to a packable mess. And as I stepped out into the cold air I remembered the last time I had felt that exact snow before. It was the winter of 77/78.
You can go and look up records for that year. You can see pictures of people in Buffalo digging down 6 feet to find the top of their cars. I made a lot of money shoveling snow that year and spent a lot of time out doors. And since that year I have not felt snow exactly like it. It's crunch, it's stickiness. After some 30 years or so.