Wow... this went all the way in. I’m a native Ithacan, living in Connecticut. Thank you, Sara, for reminding me of the refreshing, icy subzero cold, the snowstorms, the opportunities to play, dig, climb, ski, snowshoe, walk... sometimes in the downtown streets... solitary as a snow leopard. I grieve the loss of snow and cold, too. Nothing feels quite right about our winters now....
Hi Sara, I just stumbled upon your writing and this touched me deep in the core. I’m a Canadian. I live on the prairies, where we don’t plant our gardens till June, then harvest them quickly in August or September before the frost. We usually have snow by Hallowe’en.
But not this year. The snow didn’t come until January. Late January. And while I was, admittedly, enjoying the prolonged autumn - my favourite season, there was a great unease sitting squarely on my chest. We have more than enough snow now, and as I look out my window this evening, I see it’s still coming down. We’ve had a bit of cold weather. For a while, we had temps approaching -65°F.
But they said on my beloved CBC this morning that even with the massive snow we’ve had in the last months, we will still be in drought conditions this spring. More fires, less grains and pulses.
My American friend laments, we’ve broken the planet. But we haven’t. She’ll be just fine. We’ve broken ourselves. We will be shaken off like parasites. And Mama Earth will be better for it.
It’s a shame that it’s come to this. But thank you for keep the memories of my childhood here alive.
Wow... this went all the way in. I’m a native Ithacan, living in Connecticut. Thank you, Sara, for reminding me of the refreshing, icy subzero cold, the snowstorms, the opportunities to play, dig, climb, ski, snowshoe, walk... sometimes in the downtown streets... solitary as a snow leopard. I grieve the loss of snow and cold, too. Nothing feels quite right about our winters now....
Hello native Ithacan! I've lived here since 1995. And what a beautiful wintery name you have. Thank you for remembering the big snows with me.
So glad you're writing again, dear Sara. I need your words in my heart and mind.
Thank you for this love letter to snow.
Thank YOU, Joanna, for your steadfast support.
Always.
This is simply delightful Sara, and so refreshing for me, being married to a dedicated sun and hear lover.
Thank you, Mary! I'm glad you get to come to New York several times a year!
Hi Sara, I just stumbled upon your writing and this touched me deep in the core. I’m a Canadian. I live on the prairies, where we don’t plant our gardens till June, then harvest them quickly in August or September before the frost. We usually have snow by Hallowe’en.
But not this year. The snow didn’t come until January. Late January. And while I was, admittedly, enjoying the prolonged autumn - my favourite season, there was a great unease sitting squarely on my chest. We have more than enough snow now, and as I look out my window this evening, I see it’s still coming down. We’ve had a bit of cold weather. For a while, we had temps approaching -65°F.
But they said on my beloved CBC this morning that even with the massive snow we’ve had in the last months, we will still be in drought conditions this spring. More fires, less grains and pulses.
My American friend laments, we’ve broken the planet. But we haven’t. She’ll be just fine. We’ve broken ourselves. We will be shaken off like parasites. And Mama Earth will be better for it.
It’s a shame that it’s come to this. But thank you for keep the memories of my childhood here alive.
Let it snow!