Snow: that magical random mix of ice crystals high in the atmosphere. They clump together and their accumulated weight starts them on a gravitational crash course with, well, with any luck, you. Snow is one of the crazier phenomena on this planet. I smile when I see the first snow fly for the new season, even though it means the days are short and the nights are cold. I smile because I know our landscape, our canvas, is about to be completely transformed. Snow gets into, onto, and in between everything. We say it “blankets” all. When it does, it dampens sound, making even a busy city seem eerily quiet. It has no real discerning taste—unless it’s yellow of course, in which case it should be summarily avoided. It has a unique feel as it melts in your hand. On those days when there is little wind and the snowflakes are big, you can examine a few of the infinite shapes and sizes. Like tiny architects have been building the tiniest cathedrals, at 0 degrees Celsius. Growing up in the Midwest I didn’t have any mountains surrounding me, but we had plenty of snow in the winter. After college, I expanded my snow world to the mountains of Colorado. Then, about 20 years ago, I drove around a curve on I-84 and saw Mount Hood for the first time. I haven’t looked back. Snow has been such a great friend to me over the years despite almost taking my life a couple of times. In the end, it’s an easier thing to experience than it is to describe. So get out, enjoy, and let it snow, let it snow, let it snow…
thethe gorge magazine // winter gorge magazine // fall 2014 2013 63