I’m sure there was a time when I looked forward to snow, anticipating its chilly white blanket with childish glee at the coming excitement of sledding down Nuttle’s Hill or the ravine on Second Street, building a snowman with Mom’s buttons for his eyes and a carrot nose snitched from the hydrator in the Frigidaire, a snowball fight on the lot across the street or some hot chocolate afterward, when I was tired and my hands and feet were cold and wet. But now snow just seems like a pain. Oh, I will grant that it’s pretty to watch, especially from some snug aerie with a fire in the fireplace when the days stretch out ahead without a need to actually go outside. But now snow usually just means ultimately shoveling out my car and risking a drive to some place essential, like going to the grocery or the drug store, and the prospect of skidding or getting stuck or worse yet, some accident caused by another driver’s incompetence or my own impatience.
As everyone must know by now, this winter has been especially difficult here in Baltimore, with two blizzards within one week, 26 inches of snow the first time and about 18 the second. None of us – and certainly not the City – was prepared for this onslaught. It’s meant shoveling the car out twice, threading cautiously down streets made one way by the huge piles of snow shoveled out by others and praying that you’ll find a place to park once you’ve reached your destination. At first, everyone was courteous, giving way or backing up into intersections but after a week, drivers are reverting to their old patterns, honking and cutting you off, rushing to get to where they’re going without any thought to anyone else or preventing you from avoiding a new pothole deep as a volcano. Snow this old (now also a grimy gray and still stubbornly voluminous) brings out the worst in people. I guess in the face of global warming, Mother Nature was just exercising her power to sustain a cold and dreary winter. Or maybe it was her warning that our profligate neglect of our environment can result in extreme and unusual circumstances. Either way, my love affair with snow is definitely over.
So I’m very happy to be leaving all of this behind tomorrow for a long-anticipated, two-and-a-half- week trip to a springtime India. I’m going with a couple friends as part of a small group on what is billed as a luxurious tour, looking forward to experiencing a culture that I’ve heard is an unbelievable shock to all the senses, and the opportunity to capture with my camera its cacophony and color. My bag is packed, my tickets and passport and visa are all in hand, and the batteries for my camera are charged and ready to go. I’ll try to keep this blog going, too, so if you’d like to experience at least some flavor of this adventure with me – as imperfectly as I may present it - stay tuned.
As everyone must know by now, this winter has been especially difficult here in Baltimore, with two blizzards within one week, 26 inches of snow the first time and about 18 the second. None of us – and certainly not the City – was prepared for this onslaught. It’s meant shoveling the car out twice, threading cautiously down streets made one way by the huge piles of snow shoveled out by others and praying that you’ll find a place to park once you’ve reached your destination. At first, everyone was courteous, giving way or backing up into intersections but after a week, drivers are reverting to their old patterns, honking and cutting you off, rushing to get to where they’re going without any thought to anyone else or preventing you from avoiding a new pothole deep as a volcano. Snow this old (now also a grimy gray and still stubbornly voluminous) brings out the worst in people. I guess in the face of global warming, Mother Nature was just exercising her power to sustain a cold and dreary winter. Or maybe it was her warning that our profligate neglect of our environment can result in extreme and unusual circumstances. Either way, my love affair with snow is definitely over.
So I’m very happy to be leaving all of this behind tomorrow for a long-anticipated, two-and-a-half- week trip to a springtime India. I’m going with a couple friends as part of a small group on what is billed as a luxurious tour, looking forward to experiencing a culture that I’ve heard is an unbelievable shock to all the senses, and the opportunity to capture with my camera its cacophony and color. My bag is packed, my tickets and passport and visa are all in hand, and the batteries for my camera are charged and ready to go. I’ll try to keep this blog going, too, so if you’d like to experience at least some flavor of this adventure with me – as imperfectly as I may present it - stay tuned.
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