The Snow Belt

It's been a while since I've been through a proper winter (sans palm trees). As the temperatures drop and the sun sets a few hours after it has risen, I have been scurrying like a squirrel to get winter gear in order. Seeing "ice melt" and window scrapers set out for sale reminds me that the possibility for an epic whitewash is inevitable. Do I need to buy a scraper?
The last winter I endured was in Brooklyn. Even though everything one does in NYC involves being outside and walking in the elements for a longer period of time than suburban dwellers, I thought it was easier to live through snow there. I didn't mind piling on six layers and grippy boots to shuffle four blocks to the store. It was simpler than cleaning off my car and waiting for it to warm up. Parallel parking over poorly cleared snow banks on narrow streets in Brooklyn is another story.
I feel as if I endured a lifetime of winter battles that would carry anyone through the nostalgia of missing a White Christmas. I grew up in the great tundra of Northeastern Ohio. From late October until nearly April we endured ridiculous mounds of perfect snow. There was no point to the colossal quantities of lake effect snow we would get in an afternoon. No skiing hills in sight, and too much snow to clear a bumpy leaf-ridden pond puddle for ice skating. I am not a fan of winter sports. But I do have the gear to look cozy and cute while shivering six layers deep.
I find myself again in the great northeast. Fortunately not NE Ohio where The Snowbelt is not a chic looking Nanook of the North strip of deerskin with an antler buckle. I am situated back on a little island protected by the temperate waters of the Atlantic. It gets cold here, and foggy, and rains, and will snow...don't get me wrong. I still have to gather warm fashion nuts for my layering needs. But when the temperatures dip down and start with a 3...38, 32, lower to 26...I kind of wish for snow. It's cozy and romantic, it makes everything quiet and pure. It reminds me that even though my tan is fading faster than the sunset, there is still beauty in what may seem uncomfortable. I just need to be prepared and have my layers ready to protect me until I can molt again in the embrace of the summer sun. Without the cold we cannot truly appreciate the fleeting perfection of summer.

Chilly 1946 Fashion Shoot.  Love Winter White...

Gorgeous.  And about the quantity of snow we would receive in Ohio on a January afternoon...

Contemplative path = serenity now



I love love love it when the snow sticks to the trees.