You’ve been hearing about it on the news.
You’ve been looking at photos of all the sad people bundled up in coats like sleeping bags, so that they resemble quilted caterpillars, hurling shovels full of snow up over their heads, onto snow piles that are already six feet tall. Yes, that’s us, here in Boston.
It started snowing, and then it snowed some more, and then there was a blizzard, and another blizzard, and it seemed like every Monday we had a snow storm, maybe three feet, then two feet, then 18 inches. (I can’t really remember, my brain is snow blind.) Winter Storm Juno, then Winter Storm Marcus. (How did we get from “J” to “M” so fast? And yes, it’s bad when storms have names that you know.) And now we’re waiting for another blizzard in honor of Valentine’s Day, Winter Storm Neptune… Does that mean we are going under? All this to say that the Boston Snowathon has been an ongoing event, a ‘historic’ occurrence. Yes, it’s official, Boston has had more snow in February 2015 than ever ever ever.
Snow Emergencies have been declared one after another. Declared, meaning that there is no parking on any of the major streets so the snow plows can clear the roads.
They have used some unusual equipment to clear the snow in Boston this winter.
Maybe this person should have heeded Mayor Marty Walsh‘s warnings, and parked in a garage, instead of leaving their car on Marlborough Street. I guess the good news is they won’t need to look for another parking space until spring.
Yes, these are cars too, they are in there somewhere.
Tempers have frayed with the riders and operators on MBTA – the “T” – as trains have been disabled, and train platforms overflowing, buses stuck in the snow. The “T” shut down.
It’s hard to take pictures of snow, because it’s white. White on white. Fifty Shades of White.
You start to get snow fatigue. Cabin fever. It doesn’t sound good, does it? But then I remind myself that I have paid good money in my life to travel to places that are famous for snow. Why have fun in the snow in Aspen, or Zermatt, and not Boston? So I determine to enjoy, to get outside and delight in the blinding miracle.
And I’ve got good company among these hardy New Englanders. Cross country skiers on Commonwealth Avenue. Snowshoers on Boston Common.
Skaters, of course, on the Frog Pond.
It’s quite beautiful, walking home from work across Boston Common. The sun is out in all its splendor. I need my sunglasses. How wonderful.
Fashion has to go out the window of course, but nobody is looking at me bundled up in my down coat, Turtlefur neck warmer, my L.L. Bean boots. Heck no, they are all wearing versions of the same thing.
George, are you warm enough?
Valentine’s Day blizzard? Winter Storm Neptune, we’ve got this.