So, I’m bored senseless locked in the house. Not surprising. What is suprising is that, on some level, I still love snow….. Even though it swallows my golden retriever when she steps outside. Even though it’s made driving a joke (we can’t even get out the driveway) and Buffalo, again, a joke (surprise!). I love snow. Some people love snow for what it is, its immaculate crystal structure or its pristine beauty. Or its leading role in any White Christmas. I love it for what it could be, its potential to create thick chaos on any ordinary winter day, to cancel institutions left and right, to clog big, important routes. To make the small, pathetic snow shovel into a tool of survival. I love snow for its ability to take an unfrozen lake and some cold, Canadian air and make a blizzard that shuts down a city for days. As a child it took me closer than anything to a real, important situation in my idyllic suburban bubble. I love looking at a sky the white-gray color of an ice rink, wondering if it hides a secret storm. I love that snow sends people to their radios, forgotten AM stations tickled to life as they belt out cancellations and delays. I love that it realigns priorities, number one often becoming: Stay home. Drink hot chocolate. I love that under its blanket, the world has potential, could be anything, something perfect ready to hatch, before anyone remembers that traffic will knead it into brown slush.

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