Snow is a Four Letter Word

To me, snow is a four letter word. It can look pretty, especially when it sugar-frosts pine trees in the countryside. But I hate going out in it. So many people love snow and look forward to winter sports. Not me. When it snows, I hole up in the apartment and hope I have noplace to go until it is gone.

Today, I have a meeting in the evening so I may not be able to escape it unless we decide to cancel.

How did I come to be so afraid of snow and ice? I guess it started with my mother. Mom had a similar phobia. I remember once when I was about twenty we were crossing a street. It must have felt slippery to her and she froze in place, unable to move. I had to go back and get her and lead her across the street. Little did I know that around twenty years later I would be just as scared as she was.

I wasn't afraid of snow in Buffalo. I got completely used to it there. Everyone had snow tires and traffic didn't stop except during the Blizzard of '77. The day of the blizzard, I was running for the last bus to the dormitories, when a powerful gust picked me up off my feet. For a moment I was flying, not under my own power. I screamed in terror and was relieved when the wind dropped me unharmed into a soft snowdrift. The bus driver spotted me and kindly held the bus until I could get to my feet and get on.

I was afraid of high winds but not snow and not that afraid of ice either. So what changed?

I remember one incident when I was with Bruce already. We were crossing the 12th Street bridge and it was completely covered in ice. I felt my legs lock up and he had to hold onto me and lead me the rest of the way, or I might have stayed in place on the bridge just like Mom.

After that it seemed to get worse. Once, crossing the street with a friend, I realized I was walking on ice that had been rained on. That's even more slippery than plain ice. She had to rescue me. It was in the middle of the street, and cars were coming, but I couldn't take a step. I had become my mother.

The year Jason was four, there were ice storms all winter long. I don't know how the buses managed to keep running or the schools stayed open. Jason was in a pre-kindergarten at that time and the little bus came no matter what. I stayed indoors the whole winter with only a few exceptions. Once I had to go out to the bank. I walked two avenue blocks, clinging to people's fences and even crawling part of the way because I was so terrified. I didn't care what people thought, and there weren't many on the street anyhow. Walking was horrific. Also that winter, Jason fell on the ice once and my friend Nancy had to pick him up, because again I was locked. My legs would not move! I felt like a terrible mother, but I just could not force myself to walk forward and pick him up. That was one of my low moments in parenting. Fortunately there have been many highs.

In 1996 there was a blizzard, about 24 inches of snow, and for once in 18 years, the New York City school system declared two snow days and a late opening on the third day. That first blizzard was fun to go out in the day after the snow fell. It was so deep that cars could not travel down our street so we waded around in knee-deep snow, throwing snowballs at each other. Jason was six and in first grade. I used the two days off to do "homeschooling" with him. We decorated sweatshirts to say "Blizzard of 1996," called up friends and family to find up how much snow they had gotten, and did snow experiments to see how fast a snowball would melt in the kitchen, inside the refrigerator, and in the freezer.

It would have been all right if that blizzard had melted away. But that winter, every time the melting began, a fresh snowfall would come down on top of it. Treacherous ice was hidden under innocuous dustings of snow. I had to walk back and forth to Jason's school twice a day, and found it physically daunting to dodge the ice patches every day for over two months.

Now, I've become so disgusted with snow that when there is more than a mere dusting I don't even leave the house. I bought yak tracks but have not used them, because often the snow gets shoveled to the corners the day after it falls. Then the sidewalk will be relatively clear (but deceptive because of the black ice) but at the corners it is icy and deep. If I wore the yak tracks under those conditions I would only succeed in crushing them on the concrete sidewalks, and they would be useless at the corners where they are needed.

So despite its beauty and the peaceful feeling I get when I look out the window and see it falling, snow and ice are my least favorite forms of precipitation. Give me rain, anytime. In fact, give me April showers and springtime, I'm more than ready.