Newspaper article Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (Pittsburgh, PA)

Cold View of Season Is Barely Softened by Its Quiet Beauty

Newspaper article Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (Pittsburgh, PA)

Cold View of Season Is Barely Softened by Its Quiet Beauty

Article excerpt

I hate snow, and hearing someone say, "It looks sooo pretty" does not change my mind. I tell people that the only snowfall I want to see is the one I sprinkle under my Christmas tree.

As I sit at my home computer, I can turn a smidgen to the left and look out at a Norman Rockwell winter wonderland in my backyard. I am separated only by a thin pane of glass and a couple of icicles.

The scene comes on the heels of a prediction from the noon news weatherman, who said: "Snow will begin falling later today. Expected accumulation will be about an inch or so." Well, in the last hour we have surpassed the "or so," and it's coming down fast. (I must pause for a moment to ask God to keep safe those who have to navigate the roads home from work.)

Although I live in a community just 15 minutes to the north from Downtown (if there's no snow to slow traffic) I have a big backyard, a lot of which is a steep hill way in the rear. When it snows, the old, fallen trees and wicked neighbor's occasional trash are covered over and disappear. When the often-coined term that "all is blanketed in white" becomes apt like this, with everything the color of my down-filled comforter, I must concur that this makes the landscape look nicer.

In years past, my family and I would make a unisex snowperson, which usually resembled a mix of the Pillsbury Doughboy and Short Fat Fannie. I would also wrap myself in 16 pounds of clothes to go out with my girls, and later the grandkids, to sled ride and make snow angels or devils, depending on who was being good. I don't think I hated winter as much then, or was I just having too much fun to care?

Wait! A movement on the hill just caught my eye. It's none other than members of our resident deer herd. Let me count -- one, two, six. Like sure-footed goats on a mountain, they have no fear, nor do they falter as they dance across the snowy slope. …

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