Snowing into March
In Wisconsin, it’s an ongoing joke that the state will go through all its seasons in one week. Or for those with a really dark sense of humor, seasons will go through a whole day.
I hail from the most northern county of Wisconsin, which sees snow much of the year. Now that I’ve moved about two zones southwest, I’m amused that there is not nearly the amount of snow there is up north. As I write this, snow is melting off the porch into puddles that the birds are splashing in.
A good snowstorm has its romantic sides as well - that sort of isolation is a topic I often choose in my writing. What will people do when trapped by the weather? What will it unlock in them? How will people react with people they barely know under such frightening white-out conditions.
My work in progress keeps getting pushed back in lieu of other writing deadlines, but its focus is on a snowstorm in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan on Lake Superior. A group of teenagers becomes snow-stuck on an island during an early raging great lake winter storm. Snow means power is often lost, and cold sets in at a dangerous level. Food supplies can run low and driveways closed in.
Those of raised under such conditions can either crumble or thrive under such a storm. I tend to find myself on the opposite than most when the flurries begin. I enjoy it - though I’m fortunate to have grown up with both a mother and father would could operate and cook on a wood stove, who always kept jugs of water in the basement for bathing, cooking, flushing, washing. We always had stocks of candles and batteries and flashlights. The walls were always covered in book shelves in the rec room - with also had a wood stove. We read and ate stew off the fire and played games by candlelight.
As we launch into spring, I’m sad to see the flakes go, but excited for what spring will bring (probably more snow, it’s Wisconsin).
AM Bostwick
That's such a pretty quote from GG! And I love that about crumbling or thriving. It's so true about the winter.
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