Now that the term “polar vortex” is part of our vocabulary, I’m happy to be reminded of warmer thoughts that help us appreciate weather patterns we can’t control. How the recent winds sculpted snow banks brought to mind Ralph Waldo Emerson’s words, “The frolic architecture of the snow.”
From grade school I recall the first lines of a poem, “Walking,” by Dilys Bennett Laing (1906-1960). She wrote, “I walked on a snow-bank that squeaked like leather, /Or two wooden spoons that you rub together.” Or, I’d add, like corduroy pants that you wear when it’s cold.
William Blake spoke of enjoying, or at least making the most of, something all too soon gone: “I walked abroad in a snowy day; /I asked the soft snow with me to play; /She played and she melted in all her prime. /And the winter called it a dreadful crime.”
Thanks to all city crews, and citizen sidewalk shovelers, and now pothole fixers for doing well in helping to keep our city in prime.