What a week it’s been. We’ve had snow and rain, flooding and power outages. My journalism class was canceled three times this week alone due to the effects of the weather.
State workers have missed days and been sent home early.
With all of that comes certain frustrations and even fears. I’ll admit to feeling more than a bit nervous as water rushed down from the mountains and swirled with seeming rage around our house.
And it’s going to take some intellectual Tetris to try to fit all the information I have to teach into the remaining days we have left of class.
On top of all of this, it’s cold and dark outside — adding to an overall dismal feeling. I find myself just waiting for spring to peek its sunny face back into the world.
But then I started looking at the photos and videos being shared on social media. Along with warnings of coming storms and complaints similar to my own, I saw little kids building snowmen.
These are the real kind of snowmen, complete with hats and scarves, carrots for noses. The snowmen taller than the children who created them.
There were images of kids in snow forts and videos of them sledding down mounds of snow in the backyard, even down icy streets.
It reminded me of the kinds of winters I was accustomed to while growing up on ranches in northeastern Nevada. My dad would sometimes tie the hood of an old truck to a tractor and drag us around with him. We sledded and rode snowmobiles.
We rode our Big Wheels off the roof of the bunkhouse — the snow creating a cushion for a daredevil’s playground.
I talked to people who spent this whole weekend indoors, playing games with their children and grandchildren, connecting in a way they were usually to busy for. Candles waited at the ready should there be an outage.
And I started to notice how the snow brings a stillness to the world. By necessity, people and cars alike move slower. The blanket over the earth muffles all sound.
I don’t know about you, but I could use some stillness.
I’m going to make an effort to embrace this cold and dark season. I’m going to look for the fun and not the inconvenience. Let the world slow down and maybe my mind and spirit will follow.
Teri Vance is a journalist, freelance writer and native Nevadan. Contact her with column ideas at email@example.com.
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