What we talk about when we talk about snow
Friday, December 19, 2008
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There are some communities for which snow is nothing more than a seasonal expectance, an occurrence as common as rain for us in Oregon’s valley. Having lived in Minnesota<1>, I can say with absolute assurance that there, snow is neither longed for nor met with surprise. The community is built around it: The roofs of homes and places of work are steeply pitched, and our university is outfitted with underground tunnels so as to outsmart nature in our quest for knowledge.
But here in western Oregon, when the newscaster says “wintry mix,” we drop what we’re doing and start looking out the window like whales in an fishbowl. “Does that cloud look like snow or rain? What’s the difference, anyway? Do you know? Can he tell? 
Well it’s 37 degrees with a chance of snow mixing in with the rain… Let’s make slush angels!”
What most often happens, much to the behest of schoolchildren and childlike adults everywhere, is the cold air moves in, then freezes the rain to the road to make driving (or walking) an adventure in avoiding sudden death. Meanwhile the sky darkens, and we all hold our breath (which comes out in little white puffs), and we wait. Then the temperature rises, and it gets darker… rises, darker… Rain? But wait, I think I saw some snow in there. But… it’s not sticking.. is it? Yes! No wait, it melted. A half-hour later, and it’s a few ticks above freezing, and.. oh wait. Nope. Just rain.
Drat! Every time! Sure, it gets cold, but when the moisture comes it brings the warmer air with it. It never matches up. It’s not as if the cold air is still pouring in as precipitation comes ashore… it’s always a couple days after, when the higher pressure was already breaking down anyway.
But this year, it’s been different. We’ve had an unusual upper level pattern bringing in brutally cold air from the Midwest and north to Canada, and our moisture has dropped straight south from Alaska instead of being pulled over the (relatively) warm Pacific Ocean. It translated into a forecast of 3-6 inches which turned out to be one or maybe two. Then it all froze, which was great for dampening down competition for Holiday shopping and providing excuses not to go to Junior High School oboe recitals, but that’s about it.
Now what do they say but, “Snow again this weekend! 
This will be big! We really mean it this time! Honest! Trust us, we have weather machines!” And what’s a Corvallonian to do besides huddle wait for the few seconds of wintry dandruff to be shaken from God’s irritated scalp. But when it does come, even if it hits the street as snow, hesitates, then turns into water in the blink of an eye, you will find us huddled together by the large pane window, faces pressed against the glass in hopeful anticipation for the next misshapen flake to zigzag across the sky.
<1> I’ve never lived in Minnesota.
Comment
Great blog, great pics! You’re so right about how we view snow up here. I panic even more than the locals, I still want my “typical” California winter of blue skies, sunshine, and temperate weather.
— Lydia · Jan 10, 12:23 PM · #
Powerful tales with an arresting array of images to support it…
Top Draw!
and order up some more of that white…
— Art Dog · Jan 13, 06:55 PM · #
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