Now supposedly, there are over 60 differing Native words for snow – I don’t know if this is just for the general term, or rather the types of snow. I do know, as with anything else, that if you become familiar with something you begin to notice it’s differing characteristics.

There is light snow, heavy snow, wet snow, dry snow, old snow, new snow, rain and snow mixed, snow and rain mixed, and many other variations on a theme.

The sights in Portland

I grew up in Rochester, NY, not too far from Lake Ontario, and thus became familiar at an early age with the differing types of snow. There, like here, the snow that would often blow sideways. There, snow blowing sideways was called a blizzard. Here, when the snow moves at a slant, the weather people say, “blizzard like conditions.”

In true blizzards, you can’t see where you are going. Some would tie one end of a rope to their front door, and the other end to their barn door, and use the taut rope as a guide. We have never had to do this here.

We are now using headlights – sometimes it’s mesmerizing, seeing the snowflakes in the yellow orb.

I wonder why I ended up living in a climate much like the one I grew up in.

I spent a winter teaching in South Carolina, at Coastal Carolina University. I was there for one winter. I just remember that the winter went by very fast – it was fall, then it was spring. It felt odd, being in a place where the grass was visible year around.

I returned north after that year, moving to New Hampshire, which of course had a more northern climate, and, yes, plenty of snow.

In the past, I have thought “let it snow,” but right now I am concerned because the snow that we are getting is wet and heavy, and piling up. I’m concerned about the horse trailer roof, and a few of the buildings that are on our property.

No one that I have talked to is saying how they feel about it snowing so much. In two months everyone will be talking about how they are looking forward to spring.

Today it snowed all day. I spent most of the day in the former banquet room of the historic Eagle Hotel, sorting, cleaning, stamping, and categorizing the books that came in the day after I left for Portland. I also got the place back in order. I realized today that I will never not have anything to do there.

I watched the snow continue to fall as I worked – straight down, and a snowplow attempt to plow out the parking lot, working its way around the vehicles.

Pete remarked that if we owned the hotel, we’d either have to plow it ourselves or find someone to plow it for us. This remark made me wonder if the hotel would be a money suck.

It will be a quiet evening here, listening to the rain/snow mix continue to fall.

Next: 316. 11/17/23: The Joy of Dogs, Chickens, Goats, and Horses