Today was a snow day. Here in New York, this is a big deal. Our public schools are never closed. Plus, the snow day was announced a whole day early, which never ever happens. There were only two or three snow days in the entire last decade. (What did we decide to call that, by the way? The aughts? The 2000s? Personally, I call it the 00s, which I pronounce “the oh-oh’s”). But yeah, snow days are a rare thing around these parts, no matter how much snow we get.
I remember we had this severe ice storm like ten years ago. The sidewalks were so slicked with ice that you couldn’t take two steps without falling. It was like trying to walk on polished glass. Naturally, schools were not closed. This didn’t prevent everyone from staying home, though. Except me. When I was teaching, I had this thing about attendance. So there I was, trying to get to school in the ice storm. It took me about 45 minutes to walk half a block. I scavenged a piece of cardboard and slid the rest of the way on that. I put one foot on the cardboard and pushed myself along with the other. Push, slide. Push, slide. Ridiculous. Of course I was the only reject who showed up at school that day. Ah, memories.
Along with the unprecedented announcement, I heard something else yesterday. The first mourning dove of spring. I was so happy! Only, it’s not spring. Not even close (sorry, I know how brutal that truth is). He was clearly confused, and not just because we had freezing fog this morning. Freezing fog! I get the concept, but I taught Meteorology for a long time and I have to say, that’s a new one. Well, I hope that mourning dove took cover. I hope he’s somewhere safe. Because when the snow melts and it’s sunny again, I’ll be listening for that first sign of spring. A person has to have something to look forward to, after all.