On Saturday, 2020 decided to play the Wicked Witch in the scene in the castle with the scarecrow, only with snow instead of fireballs.
“How about a little snowstorm in October, COVID-wearily citizens?”
“It won’t stick to the pavement,” they said. “It will be just a coating to an inch in Boston,” they said.
Hundreds of previously healthy and now broken tree branches later, we had more like 4-5 inches, the leaves catching the snow like a thousand flat roofs. You didn’t walk on the park paths and sidewalks, you serpentined.
Yes, the first snow is always kind of magical, and it was sticky and good for building snow people. And it was also weird to see all the leaves laden with snow up in the trees, and also leaves piled on top of the snow on the ground. The oaks and maples were hanging tough with their leaves, pretty much telling the snowstorm where to stick it. The ginkgos that had turned yellow, on the other hand, were like, nope, I’m out. There was a carpet of yellow leaves and berries on the snow beneath each tree with hardly any left on the branches.
It hurt my New England brain a bit. Leaves are supposed to be under the snow, not on top, and let’s face it, my brain is already listing from the past 8 months. It doesn’t need any more challenges.
And then there were my window box begonias, which had continued to thrive even with the cool fall days and nights. I had taken down my other plants, but I couldn’t bear to prematurely destroy their resplendent green leaves and sumptuous blooms.
I wondered what would happen in the snow.
You know 2020, you keep trying to take me down, but you won’t. I’ll admit that before the snow, I wasn’t doing great. You’re just getting worse, and I am so damn tired of you. I was cycling through emotions faster than a kid going through her Halloween haul and rejecting all the crap candy. But the snow — that was just straight up bad behavior, completely unnecessary, and frankly the last straw. This time you’ve gone too far, and now you’ve pissed me off. Now, I am Captain Kirk kicking the Klingon into the fiery pit in The Search for Spock. I’m sticking a fork in you 2020. You are done.
And that was the weekend, folks. No matter what else happens, I will be here next Monday. Cuz, the bitch is back.
Your personalities of the plants make the snow more of an epic, less of a weird weekend. Characters always help!
Ha ha, thank you. I’m an anthropomorphist, not a scientist 😉