Day three of the annual Orcas snowzilla is upon us. As usual the community is divided down the center betwixt the ‘winter wonderland folk’ and the ‘grinches’. I recognize both points of view, although to be honest being a chap of endless leisure this century I lean towards the ‘through the looking glass’ perspective.
Naturally, as an island mainly inhabited by emigres, we tend to hear a lot of “I remember the blizzards of ’98 on the East coast’”, and “nothing like a winter in Nebraska”. Yes, snow is indeed just snow but I would remind the poo pooers that indigenous peoples in the arctic circle, who probably know more about the white stuff than anyone, have many differing ways to describe the nature of what is unquestioningly a very ‘slippery’ subject.
The third day of ‘snowzilla’ presents a number of difficulties particular to this island. Day one will invariably falls on a not very chill day, snow almost immediately melting to soak the ground thoroughly. Day two commences in a freeze, the fresh snow covering a layer of now iced over puddles and slip slides. From day three to the thaw presents a nightmare of hidden ice or walkways,black ice on roads, general unmitigated treachery.