The snow crunches
Beneath my boots
It squeaks and squeals
Grumbling with each step
The dry thin air
Turns white with wind
In seconds my face goes cold
My face hurts
My face is numb
The snow settles
The shrieking
Becomes a low whistle
I can again hear the snow
Complaining against my weight
I stop
Blocked by the barn
It is still
But I can hear the train-rush
Roaring through the trees
Across the valley
I start again for the house
The roar approaches
I shut the door
As snow swirls then settles
On the warm floor
Windows rattling
House shaking
I am home
–
Those who have never been in the extreme cold may have never heard the strange noises snow makes. As it gets colder it starts to crunch. Colder yet and the crunch turns to squeaks which eventually become squeals, as if the snow where a living thing complaining as you walk on it. With sustained winds on Sunday night up to 35 mph/50 kph and gusts over 65 mph/100 kph, the cold cut through everything. In the shadow of might Mt. Washington up in the White Mountains this type of weather isn’t too unusual. Down in my village? It happens, but the few times it does gets burned into memory. Or perhaps I should say it’s frozen in memory.
Oh, one small detail – I think it’s weird that the blizzard started after the snow stopped – it was windy while snowing, but the total white-out conditions happened as it got colder and windier. We usually think of blizzard and falling snow, but “blizzard” describes the conditions and is usually about the blowing snow and visibility.
Edit – Since I mention Mt. Washington and this poem was about Sunday night, this is an interesting read.
Snow squeals at you?? Who knew winter could be so noisy?
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Usually I think it’s cold when it crunches. When it squeaks I know it’s very cold. The squealing? I’ve only been out when it’s cold enough to do that a few times. I mean, it’s not ear splitting loud, though usually everything else is so quiet it might seem that way.
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the ending of your poem was very cool. I am home….
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Thanks. A similar poem this morning but with a sad ending – I’m at work ;) (It was below zero this AM)
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Very nice images, Trent !
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Thanks! It was almost as cold this Am when I went into work.
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I’ll admit I’ve never heard snow make noises of any kind. Brr…I can’t believe how cold it is. Stay warm, Trent! Lovely poem.
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Thanks Amy! They’re saying there may not be a break in the cold until March. I know that’s less than two weeks away, but it’s still too far in the future for me!
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I’m sure that can seem like a long time away. Hang in there and stay inside as much as possible.
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Truth be told, I like cold better than hot, but sometimes enough is enough. And I don’t even want to look at the propane bill.
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Just don’t look…
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I said I like the cold, but I don’t like it enough to have my whole house being the same temp as outside; )
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Great poem, you should write some bad ones from time to time….
Anyways, what I´m thinking really is that you have some big “cojones” to go out of the house with 23-C. I would just sneak into my bed and wrapped myself upon layers and layers of sheets.
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Thanks Charly! Of course I didn’t stay out very long – too long and I wouldn’t have any “cojones” as they would have froze off.
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your right about the sound snow makes, one doesn’t really think that, i felt exhausted after reading that poem, really invoked the essence of cold x very clever
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Thanks! They say write what you know, and these days I know snow and cold!
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hah poor you x
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